


Stormseeker: Legacy of the Shapers

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Stormseeker Saga [3]
Category: Geneforge, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bisexual Male Character, Canon - Video Game, Crossover, Dimension Travel, Drug Addiction, Gen, Genetics, Humor, Immortality, POV First Person, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Present Tense, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, Time Loop, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-03
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-13 10:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 94,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/502530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexen Chelseer, a time traveler who doesn't seem to stay dead, seeks to explore the multiverse. Along with Sirius Black, he travels to the world of Terrestia to unlock the secrets of the Shapers. Things are never quite so easy as they sound at first, however...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preparations

I am Lexen Chelseer, the Stormseeker, immortal time traveler and interdimensional explorer. 

I stand in Torn Elkandu, the center of the multiverse, underneath the swirling purple skies. I walk along the streets lined with glowing cyan runes. I approach the Nexus, the powerful teleportation device that the group of mages known as the Elkandu use to travel to other universes. 

Beside the Nexus, Keolah Kedaire stands. She is an elf -- of the human-like variety, not like a house-elf -- with reddish-brown hair and unnatural silver eyes, watching over the Nexus and making sure that it does not destabilize. But that will all be irrelevant in about six hours, when the Dark Elkandu are going to come through and slaughter everyone. 

"Hello, Stormseeker," Keolah says. "Where do you want to go today?" 

I don't plan on going to a new world just yet. I have some supplies I want to pick up first in the last world I visited, Wizarding Earth. There, I learned how to do magic using a wand, but I'm going to need to go and collect my wand again. I don't want to go into a new world unprepared. And I don't think I want to go alone, either. 

"Could you show me a list of some of the magic schools around the multiverse?" I ask. 

"Something wrong with the School of Thought?" Keolah says. 

I shrug. "It's all well and good, but I'd like to get some other perspectives on magic. Mostly, though, I want to go there briefly so that I can lock it into my mind to return there on my own. Torn Elkandu is about to be attacked in six hours. I'm a time traveler, and just spent six years in another world learning magic. I want to test out the new skills I've learned against Sedder." 

"Oh, I see," Keolah says, blinking. 

"And yeah, you've never seen a real time traveler before," I tell her wearily. "I know. You've told me that a number of times now." 

"Sorry," Keolah says, chuckling. She waves her hands, and a series of misty images appears in the air in front of her. "Here's some destinations for you to choose from." 

I look through them and pick one at random. "Nodye Coast Shaper School." 

Keolah gives a nod, and says, "Very well. I've calibrated the Nexus for that destination. Step inside and I'll send you along." 

"Thanks," I say. "I'll be right back." 

I walk into the middle of the eight runed obelisks. Since Keolah is the one working the Nexus right now, I don't need to focus on anything in particular. The runes flare to life, and glowing mists surround me, and Torn Elkandu vanishes. 

When my vision clears, I find myself in a spot out of sight near what appears to be some sort of city. The sun shines down over domed buildings and stone walkways. A number of humans milling about, as well as shorter humanoids wearing dirty robes, sweeping the streets. I spot some sort of pen filled with strange creatures I don't recognize. 

But that's enough looking around for now. I've got the measure of the place, and I will be able to come back here again without Keolah's help. I'll be able to look around more once I've done the other things I want to do first. 

I focus my magic inward, and grasp at the glowing beacon within my soul, the connection to the Nexus that allows me to return to it whenever I choose. It's unfortunate that it only functions properly if someone is actively maintaining the Nexus. By the end of today, I will not be able to access Torn Elkandu any longer, so I had best take advantage of it while it's available. But at least I have as many todays as I want, to do that in. 

"Welcome back," Keolah says. "Where to next?" 

"Don't worry about it," I say. "I know where I'm going." 

"Alright," Keolah says. "I'll go back to scrying at Devenia, then..." 

I raise an eyebrow. "What _do_ you do in your spare time, anyway?" 

"Right now, I'm watching a group of high school students, and the wacky antics they get into," Keolah replies. 

I blink. "You're watching Muggles for entertainment?" 

"Muggles?" Keolah says in confusion. 

"Excuse me," I say. "Mensch. That's what the last world I was in called them." 

"Oh," Keolah says. "Yeah, pretty much. There's this short girl who's a bit of a spitfire, who keeps insisting that she's not actually in love with this one boy..." 

"Right," I say. "I'll just leave you to that, then." 

For starters, I'm going to need some money, so I step back into the Nexus and activate it, focusing upon my home village of Wishingsdale, on the world of Lezaria. I land outside of my family's manor house. It's been a long time since I've felt the comforting higher gravity of my homeworld, or basked in its brilliant sunlight. I take a moment to dally and just admire my surroundings. I'm home again, even if only briefly, for the first time in six years. Sure, I visited it in a Pensieve once or twice, but it's not the same. 

But enough of that, I step inside the manor and look around for my great-grandmother. I have to smile when I poke my head into one room, and see my twin cousins playing. These two nine year old girls are Helga and Hilda, first cousins to me, but I grew up like they were my sisters. Never will I forget their screams, when Sedder tortured them to death in front of me. 

I finally locate my great-grandmother, Hawthorne Chelseer. She's in her eighties, but certainly doesn't look it. The Elkandu theorized something about the Nexus stopping their aging after a certain point. I have no idea, myself. 

"Lexen!" Hawthorne says. "What are you doing back here? Did school get out early?" 

I shake my head. "Forget school," I say. "I'm going off to explore the multiverse. Could I get some money, or something else that could be easily changed into local currency?" 

Hawthorne chuckles. "You're definitely a Chelseer. Alright, let's see what we can do." 

She leads me down the hall toward the family vault. There's no bank like Gringotts on Lezaria, and it's doubtful that any of the old elven families would ever trust the likes of goblins with their money anyway. Instead, we have a vault underneath the manor house. It's not even magically expanded or anything, either. But since I wasn't of age yet when I left, I wasn't entrusted with the means of entering it. 

"Can you give me access to the vault, Hawthorne?" I ask. 

"You're still not of age yet, Lexen," Hawthorne says. 

"I'm sixteen," I reply. "Chronologically, anyway." Due to their normally shorter lifespans, Lezarian elves are considered to be of age at thirteen. 

"Huh?" Hawthorne says, looking at me blankly. 

"I'm a time traveler," I say. "I just spent six years in another world." 

"Well, if that's true, then the magic seals will recognize it," Hawthorne says. "I don't need to do anything special. Just try to open it, then." 

"Alright," I say, and I put my hand on the vault door. The blood red crystal in the center lights up, and the door slides open. "That's it?" 

"Yup," Hawthorne says. "I guess you really are a time traveler. Not that I doubted you or anything, mind you." 

"You've just never heard of a real time traveler before," I say, smirking. 

"Yeah," Hawthorne says. "So if you ever need anything from the vault, you can come here on your own, in whichever timeline you wind up in." 

"Great, thanks," I say. 

"So, tell me about this world you visited," Hawthorne says excitedly. "Did you get into any fights? Did you kill anybody?" 

I laugh lightly. Hawthorne is so predictable at times. "Yeah," I say. "I was in a Dueling Club, and I was pretty good at it, too. And I killed a few people, too. They all deserved it, though." 

"Wonderful!" Hawthorne says, clapping her hands together with disturbing glee. 

"I'd best collect some valuables, though," I say. "I've got some things to do. And I'm going to try to kill Sedder today." 

"Yes!" Hawthorne says. "But, you're not worried about him killing you?" 

"I'm immortal," I say. "Every time I die, I go back in time. So I'm _really_ not concerned about it." 

"Nothing to lose for trying, then," Hawthorne says. "May your magic never falter." 

"And may yours find its favor," I recite the traditional Elkandu parting, and Hawthorne heads back up the stairs, leaving me to the vault. 

I look around the room. In most homes, this would be the basement. But no such mundane term applies to the Chelseer household. We're descended from royalty, and one of the most powerful and influential families on Lezaria. The vault is full of coins and jewelry from all over Lezaria and a few other worlds, too. There's gemstones and bars of precious metals, and miscellaneous magic items I couldn't begin to figure out the enchantments on. 

I decide to scoop up a small bag full of coins, a gold bar, and a handful of gemstones. There's no bags of holding or the like in here, that much I know. The Elkandu haven't really perfected that sort of magic yet. I'll have to pick one up in Diagon Alley. 

I Recall back to the Nexus, and once I arrive, I activate it again, focusing this time upon an image of Diagon Alley. The glowing mists surround me again, and when they clear, I'm standing in the familiar streets of wizarding London, in what appears to be a public Apparation point. I'm getting a few odd looks due to my apparent age, however. 

Right, I forgot to change my age before traveling. I focus for a moment on growing older, carefully, my skin crawling and my bones aching as my magic changes my apparent, physical age. If I'm not careful, I'll inadvertently wind up overdoing it and dying of old age. But a more gentle push is enough to put me at the apparent age of twenty or so. It makes my pants very tight and uncomfortable, however, so I bring it down a bit again. 

My first stop is Gringotts to see what they can do about money. I head inside the big marble building and go up to one of the goblin tellers. "Excuse me, do you do currency changing?" 

"The Muggle money station is over that way," the goblin says absently, pointing. 

"Not Muggle money," I say. "I've got some currency from another world, a bar of gold, and some gemstones. I'd like to know what I might be able to get for them." 

"I see," the goblin says, giving me a strange look. "Another world, huh? Very well, I'll take a look at the coins and the gold. I'm not interested in the gems, though." 

I pull out my bag and pass it over to him. "Here." 

The goblin peers over the valuables for a while and comes up with conversion to galleons for each of them. From watching him, it looks like the gold bar goes fastest and smoothest. That might be what I want to use in the future. Once he's done, he passes my bag back over to me, full of galleons, sickles, and knuts, and the gems that he didn't convert. 

"You've taken your conversion fee out, I assume?" I ask. 

The goblin nods. "Of course. Go on, now. You're holding up the line." 

"Thanks," I say, and head out of the bank. 

I stop in at the luggage shop next to buy a bag of holding, carefully checking how long it takes me to do so. This is only a test run, after all. When running for real, I'll only have six hours to play around with before returning to the Nexus is inadvisable, so I'll need to be sure to be able to get anything I want done before then. 

Next, now that the heavy coins are tucked away in my new bag, I head over to Ollivander's. "Can I help you, sir?" Ollivander says. 

"Hello, I'm Lexen Chelseer, an interdimensional time traveler," I say. "Could you bring me my wand, please? It's pine, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches." 

"I see," Ollivander says, blinking for a moment. "Very well." He goes in to find the wand in question, and brings it out to me. 

"Yeah, that's the right one," I say, counting out the galleons. "Thank you, sir." 

"Of course," Ollivander says, still looking a little confused. 

I head out of the shop again and look around Diagon Alley some more, trying to think if there's anything else that I might want to pick up before any trip to a new world. I can't imagine that most of these things would be useful in the next world, though. Any supplies unique to the new world, I can just pick up when I get there. What I'm looking for here is things like the bag of holding, that have universal utility. Hmm, if I think I might be doing some traveling in the wilderness, I could always pick up a wizard tent... 

Clothes, however. My robes are tight on my body, and my pants tighter yet. I go into Madam Malkin's next. 

"Excuse me," I say to the seamstress. "Do you have any self-adjusting robes that I could pick up off the shelf? I'm in a bit of a rush." 

Madam Malkin looks at me strangely. "If you're in such a hurry, why would you need an enchantment that's only useful if you keep the same robes for several years?" 

I sigh and smirk at her, then will my body to adjust my age down to seven years old, then back up to thirty, then down to fourteen again. "I'm a sort of Metamorphmagus," I say. "And since my clothes don't automatically adjust, it makes normal robes and trousers very uncomfortable." 

"Oh!" Malkin says. "I see. I've never seen anyone with that particular ability before, but I suppose I can understand that." 

"If you don't have any immediately available, could you tell me how long it would take to add them to some articles of clothing?" 

"Not too long," Malkin says. "Although I'll charge extra to expedite the service." 

"That's alright," I say. "After seeing my family's vault, I don't think money will be an issue. Could I perhaps get that on four sets of robes, two pairs of trousers, two shirts, one pair of boots, six pairs of socks, two sets of pajamas, and six pairs of boxers?" 

She gives me some prices, and shows me over to the pre-made clothing section so that I can select the ones I want. I pick out some and bring them over to her, and then watch her perform the spells over them. 

They're very complicated charms, and after the first one, she says, "You're not trying to steal trade secrets from me by watching like that, are you?" 

"Of course not," I say. "Besides, I'm terrible with charms. That was _complicated_. I could spend years practicing it and never get it. You deserve your fee for mastering it." 

Malkin beams in pride, and continues her work. I time how long it takes her to do each piece, and count out the galleons for her. It's pricey, but well worth it. Once she's done, I go into a changing room and slip into a set of the new clothes. That's _much_ more comfortable. I shift my age up to twenty again, and smile as the robes automatically change with me. Excellent! 

I come out again and say, "Well done, Madam Malkin. Have a tip, too." I pass over some extra galleons. 

"Thank you, young man!" Malkin says. "Or however old you really are. Have a nice day!" 

Expensive, but my next purchase is likely to be more expensive yet. I'm glad that I brought a lot of money from the vault. I head over to a camping supplies store and look at some of the tents they have available ready-made. I'm not picky enough to want a custom job on these. I check the prices, and have to wince a little. I _don't_ have enough money on me to buy the one I really want. I wince at that, more for the _weight_ of gold I'll need to haul to Gringotts than for fear of emptying my family vault for it. 

I head out of the tent shop again without purchasing anything, and think on what else I might want to bring. Not just material goods, but also people. While I have no doubt that I will make friends in the next world, I wouldn't mind taking along someone who I already like and can trust their personality and tendencies, even if they don't know _me_ yet. 

But who should I take? Most of my friends are, in this time period, around eleven years old and just about to start their magical education. This wouldn't be so bad if I can get straight into a magic school, assuming that's even the age of students that they want. If they want younger or older students, _I_ can accommodate that, but my friends would be out of luck. I had some friends among the older students, but I doubt they'd want to leave Hogwarts. What about an adult? I doubt Snape would agree to go with me. Remus's lycanthropy would be problematic in a world without a supply of wolfsbane potion, and I have no desire to be a werewolf again. And Sirius is in Azkaban. Hmm... 

What has my life come to that breaking someone out of Azkaban seems like my most viable option? 

Tempting the Dementor's Kiss isn't a pleasant prospect, but my Patronus is strong. I'm certain that I can ward them off. And Sirius was able to escape on his own, after all. How hard could it be? 

Well, I still have a few hours left to do some research. And I doubt that asking random people in Diagon Alley would be helpful. So I decide to talk to Dumbledore. After what happened in my last life, I don't really trust him, but... no, I should be more forgiving of that. I didn't exactly make things easy on him. I got way too deeply into dark magic and even publicly used the Imperius Curse on the dragon in the first task at the Triwizard Tournament. What was he supposed to do about that? I think I got off easy with just being expelled. 

I head over to the nearest Floo point, toss in a pinch of powder, and say, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!" The fire flares up for a moment, but then it seems like a grate blocks my way. I'm being refused entry. Right, I suppose not just anyone can waltz into the Headmaster's office. I try someplace else. "The Hog's Head!" 

When I tumble out of the fireplace at the far end of a bumpy ride, I note that the tavern seems unusually empty today. There's only two people present, Aberforth and the very Headmaster that I wanted to speak with. How strange. 

"My apologies," I say. "I didn't mean to interrupt anything. But it's fortunate that you're here, Headmaster, as I wished to speak with you regardless." 

"Is it urgent?" Dumbledore asks. 

"I'm afraid it cannot wait," I say. "I only have a few hours left, and I have a feeling that I'll be spending most of that time convincing you of the truth of what I have to say." I smirk. 

"Perhaps you could begin with introductions?" Dumbledore suggests. 

"Right," I say. "My name is Lexen Chelseer. I'm a time traveler from another dimension. I just spent the last six years pretending to be Harry Potter so that you could cover up his unfortunate death at age five, when he fell down the stairs at his Muggle home. Fortunately, I was able to defeat Lord Voldemort in the end, with some help." 

Dumbledore stares at me. I seem to have rendered him speechless. I do, however, feel a gentle poke of Legilimency against my mental barriers. 

"I'll be happy to provide memories for your Pensieve to prove what I'm saying," I go on. 

"I think that would be best, yes," Dumbledore says. "Let us reconvene in my office. Aberforth, I'll speak with you later." 

"Of course," Aberforth drawls. "Not every day that interdimensional time travelers fall out of the Floo." 

Dumbledore steps over to the fireplace, and from there, we head over to "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office!" 

Dumbledore pulls out his Pensieve, and gestures toward its basin. "Here it is," he says. "I'll be interested to see what sort of memories you might bring up..." 

I put my wand to my forehead and focus upon memories to copy out to show to him. Our first meeting in Hogsmeade. The Mirror of Erised. The Philosopher's Stone. The disastrous first battle in the Chamber of Secrets, and the much more successful second one. Dumbledore rescuing Remus, Sirius, and me from Dementors. Once I'm done, I step back and say, "That should suffice." 

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "Let's take a look at these together, shall we? After you." 

We plunge into the Pensieve and watch the memories play out before us. 

"Professor Quirrell is possessed?" Dumbledore says. 

"Yes," I reply. 

"There's a basilisk under the school?" Dumbledore says. 

"Yes," I repeat. 

"Sirius Black is innocent?" Dumbledore says, eyes widening even further. 

"Absolutely yes," I say quietly. 

When we emerge from the Pensieve, Dumbledore looks to me and says, "Very well. I believe you... I must believe you, after all of that. What is it that you need?" 

"Right now?" I say. "Just information. I don't have enough time left to do anything else. First off, might I ask how I can gain your trust without spending two hours staring into a Pensieve to do it?" 

Dumbledore thinks for a moment, and then says quietly, "Tell me that I see my sister Ariana in the mirror of Erised." 

"My condolences," I say quietly, nodding. 

"Thank you," Dumbledore says. "What is it that you intend to do?" 

"As you saw mentioned, Sirius is innocent," I say. "I want to break him out of Azkaban and take him safely to another universe with me." 

"You don't ask for much," Dumbledore says, a twinkle in his eyes. "Ask me for a portkey there. I can get you fairly close. Would you need me to come along to cast the Patronus Charm?" 

"No," I say. "I can cast it now. Better that I do it alone." 

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "If you will need to get back out again quickly, you'll want to ask for a two-way portkey." 

"Right," I say. "Is there anything else I should know? About breaking into Azkaban?" 

"The prison is guarded only by Dementors," Dumbledore says. "There's an Auror guard post on the island some distance away from the prison, but no one else inside Azkaban itself. If you can get past the Dementors, you should have no problems." 

"Hasn't anyone ever tried to break into Azkaban before?" I wonder. 

"No one who can cast a Patronus has ever wanted to before," Dumbledore says. 

I shake my head. "There's something seriously screwed up about this world..." 

"I've always said it was a mistake to trust guarding criminals to the likes of Dementors," Dumbledore says. "No good will come of it, especially should any Dark Lord manage to make an alliance with the Dementors. They are inherently very dark creatures..." 

"Well, it's not my business in this universe to fix all of the problems of the wizarding world," I say. "I'll thank you for your information with a few more warnings of the future. Gilderoy Lockhart is a fraud who Obliviates people to take credit for their deeds. Ron Weasley's rat is actually Peter Pettigrew. Do what you will with the information I've given you. I must be going now." 

"Very well," Dumbledore says. "Good luck, whatever you do." 

"Ugh," I mutter. "Nothing good ever comes from luck." 

I head through the Floo just to get out of Hogwarts' Anti-Apparation wards, and then Recall back to the Nexus. 

"Welcome back," Keolah says. 

"Keolah, before we get horribly killed, I'd like to see if you can make sense of how my power works," I say. "Normally, when I die, I only go back to the last point I woke up. But twice so far now, I've gone back to the first day I died, today." 

"Something different about the circumstances or cause of death or something?" Keolah says, raising an eyebrow. 

"The first time was the gaze of a basilisk," I say. "The second time was a spell called the Killing Curse." 

"Hmm," Keolah says. "Maybe I could give you a clue if I could see how that spell works." Being a Seeker, she _would_ be able to see how the magical energy does its work. 

"I can cast it for you to demonstrate," I say. I pull out my wand and point off in a direction where I won't be in any danger of accidentally hitting anyone, and aim at the ground. I focus upon anger, hatred, desire to kill, and say, " _Avada Kedavra!_ " A flash of green light strikes the pavement harmlessly. 

"Interesting," Keolah says. "So far as I can tell, all that spell does is that it knocks the soul out of someone's body." 

"Maybe that's it," I say. "Maybe it's something that messes with the soul that will force a full reset... I wonder if the same would apply to something that would _destroy_ the soul?" 

"It's possible," Keolah says. 

"I don't really care to test it, though," I say. "Bad enough that I'm planning to go hobnob with some soul-sucking abominations next as it is." 

"When is the attack going to take place?" Keolah asks. 

"It won't be long now," I say. 

A few minutes later, the runes on the Nexus glow brightly, and mist fills the circle between the eight obelisks. Here they come...


	2. Testing Shadows

I hold my wand at ready as the Dark Elkandu materialize within the Nexus. This is foolish, I know. I have no hope of success. But, as Hawthorne said, I have nothing to lose. I want to see how I will fare against them. 

There I see him. _Sedder_. A dark-haired half-elf clad in black robes, with a cruel grin on his face, as if anticipating the joyful slaughter ahead of him. 

This is the man who gave me my first death. The one who tortured my cousins. The one who robbed me of any future I might have in Torn Elkandu. I came here to learn at the School of Thought, but now I have only six hours in this day, six hours every time I repeat today, forcing me to flee to another world lest I face another death. I would like nothing better than to kill this man. My blood boils with rage and hatred, the need to _kill_... 

" _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ " I roar. 

A flash of green light bursts toward the group of Dark Elkandu, and strikes one of Sedder's companions. The black-robed human woman drops to the ground, dead. 

"What is this?" Sedder says, looking at me in amusement. With a flick of his fingers, my wand flies out of my hand. "You seek to use such toys against me? What foolishness." 

Keolah blinks for a moment. "Oh, did the attack start?" she says absently. "Oh, bother, and the blonde tsundere girl just started an argument." 

Sedder looks aside at her incredulously. "What _are_ you talking about, Seeker? No, never mind, I don't think I want to know." 

I scramble about after my wand, but with a twitch of Sedder's hand, dark tentacles spring out of nowhere and hold me firmly in place. 

"Ugh..." I mutter. Well, that answers my question about how I would do against him. Needing a wand is nothing but a liability against mages who don't need one. And often even against ones who _do_. "Sedder. Before you kill me, I must ask of you, at least spare Keolah..." 

"I wasn't actually planning to kill Keolah unless she stands against me anyway," Sedder says. He reaches out and pokes her. "I think she's already forgotten that Torn Elkandu is under attack." 

"I have not," Keolah says. "Let me know when it's over, alright?" 

Sedder puts his face in his palm. "Keolah, do please consider yourself to be hereby taken prisoner, alright? My minions will escort you to our headquarters." 

"Wait, you _weren't_ planning to kill her?" I say. "But didn't she exile you?" 

"Yeah," Sedder says. "But she's more useful to me alive. I mean, Abyss, she's the best Seeker alive, and she won't even bother to fight back. It's like she doesn't even care that I'm blatantly evil." 

"The greatest power can only be achieved by light and darkness working together," Keolah says absently. "It doesn't matter which side I serve. The universe will right itself and return to balance, in time." 

"Whatever," Sedder says, rolling his eyes. "Anyway. You. Chelseer with the stupid stick. I'm going to kill you slowly now." 

The dark tendrils of shadow worm their way painfully into me, draining away my strength. Damn it, I'm not just going to let him kill me. There's one spell I can cast without a wand. _One_ spell. 

" _FULGORIS!_ " I scream. Lightning bursts in the air around me. It's uncontrolled, undirected, and as much of it hits me as does anything else. But at least it speeds along my inevitable death. Maybe I managed to take out one or two of the other Dark Elkandu in the process, before darkness takes me. 

* * *

I wake in my room in Torn Elkandu. That wasn't an unexpected outcome. Not in the least. I waste no time laying around this time, however. I get up and quickly get dressed, and make my way to the Nexus double-time. The last was an information-gathering dry run. This one's the real thing. 

I head through the Nexus to Wishingsdale, into the house, and down to the vault. I grab as many gold bars as I can carry, then Recall back to the Nexus, and hardly pause there to recalibrate the teleporter for Diagon Alley next. 

Gringotts to change my money. Luggage shop to get my bag of holding, so I can stop hauling around heavy gold. Madam Malkin's for clothes, so I can shift my age up. Camping store for a four-bedroom tent, expensive but worth it! Then I step into Ollivander's. 

"Hello, Ollivander," I say. "I'm an interdimensional time traveler. Could you bring me a couple of wands you've got... Pine, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches. Spruce, dragon heartstring, fourteen inches." 

Ollivander looks a little puzzled, but goes to fetch the wands in question. "I believe these are the ones you are looking for." 

I already have the galleons laid out for him when he returns. "Thanks," I say, tucking the spruce wand into my bag and giving the pine one a swish, letting forth a shower of green sparks. "Tata." 

I head over to the public Floo point, drop in a pinch of powder, and say, "The Hog's Head!" 

Sure enough, Aberforth and Dumbledore are the only ones in the Hog's Head at the moment. They look over at me when I tumble out of the fireplace, and Aberforth opens his mouth to say something, but I hold up a hand to interrupt him. 

"I'm Lexen Chelseer, interdimensional time traveler," I explain quickly. "I'm short on time and I need your help, but I don't have time to explain everything. Headmaster, you told me to tell you that you see your sister Ariana in the Mirror of Erised." 

"I... yes..." Dumbledore says hesitantly, eyes widening. "What do you need?" 

"A two-way portkey to Azkaban," I say. 

Dumbledore frowns and pulls out a butterbeer cork, and taps it with his wand. " _Portus_." He passes it over to me, and I take it. "I've set it to be voice-activated. Say 'Hershey' to get to Azkaban, and 'Skittles' to leave again." 

"Thanks," I say. "And for your help, some future information you can do whatever you like with. Quirrell is possessed by Voldemort. Lockhart's a fraud. Scabbers is Peter. And Sirius is innocent -- but if all goes well, he won't be your problem any longer soon enough. Farewell. Hershey!" 

The portkey sweeps me away, and drops me down on a rocky shore beside a stormy ocean. There's an abandoned wooden boat nearby that looks barely seaworthy. In the distance, across the water, I think I might catch a glimpse of a tower above the horizon. Damn, was this really the closest he could get me? No help for it, I suppose. 

I climb into the boat, shore it up with a couple quick charms, and send it off toward the island propelled by an Energy Stream Curse in the opposite direction. Soon enough, although still taking entirely too long by my opinion, I arrive at the prison island. An ominous tower stands on the far side of the island. I shiver involuntarily. Am I feeling the Dementors from here, or is it just that cold here? I head in toward the prison. 

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," I say, focusing upon the memory of the rainbow after the storm. A translucent duck emerges from the end of my wand, and looks around warily, standing ready. It can sense the Dementors nearby, no doubt. 

No time to waste for a careful approach. I don't have the invisibility cloak anymore, and it wouldn't help, anyway. I hurry in, throwing caution to the wind. I keep my happy thought firmly in mind to hold the Dementors at bay. 

I reach the prison gates and make my way inside. The Dementors shy away from my fierce silvery duck. Now I just need to find Sirius. I have to slow down and take a look at the people in the cells. Many of them hold only bones, and others hold people who might as well be corpses. They look up out of their cells at the thin ray of hope given off by my Patronus, and reach out toward me pathetically. 

"Help me..." rasps an old man. "Please help me..." 

"I'm sorry," I say. "I don't have the time or power to free you all. Perhaps in another lifetime..." 

Guilt at not being able to save everyone in the prison twinges at my heart even as the Dementors' aura of despair tries to touch the edges of my mind. But no, I won't lose sight of my happy thought. The dawn after the long night. The rainbow after the storm. All things shall pass in time. All turmoils are fleeting in the face of eternity. 

I spend entirely more time than I had hoped to wandering the corridors of Azkaban. I really should have brought along some chocolate. Not only for the fact that the Dementors' chill is slowly starting to get to me even with the Patronus, but to help Sirius recover when I do finally find him. 

Then, as I'm walking down a corridor on the fifth floor, I hear a familiar voice uttering, "Peter, that rat... I'm going to kill him... I'll kill him..." 

I rush forward, bringing my Patronus close to him to give him some shelter from the Dementors' aura. "Sirius!" I say. 

"Wha-- Who?" Sirius says. "Who's there?" His eyes widen as he looks out at me. "James? No, it couldn't be... Lily's eyes? _Harry?_ " 

Sure, let's go with that for now. It'll be easier that way. I can explain the truth to him once we're safely out of here. "I'm here to free you, Sirius," I say. "I know you're innocent." 

"Harry, you're a sight for sore eyes..." Sirius says, his mouth wearily contorting into a smile, as if he doesn't quite remember how to smile any longer. 

I point my wand at the cell door, and say, " _Alohomora_." The door holds firm, and doesn't budge. 

"It's not going to be quite that easy, I don't think," Sirius says. 

Maybe I just need to put more power into the spell. I force more energy into the casting, and say, " _Alohomora!_ " This time, the door shudders a little under the spell, but it still doesn't open. 

Sirius sighs and slumps down to the cell floor again. Behind me, around me, other prisoners are reaching out to my Patronus like daisies toward the sun. The smallest reprieve of hope in the midst of despair. 

Who could be so cruel as to think that even the world's worst criminals deserve this sort of treatment? I focus my thoughts inward, upon hope for freedom for all beings. No one deserves to be a prisoner. No one deserves to be a slave. No being should have to be helpless. Break the chains. Open the door. " _ALOHOMORA!_ " 

This time, the spell hits the door with the force of an explosion, and the bars slide open with a bang. I start to wonder why it really is that I'm so bad with charms and so good with curses. Negative thoughts and emotions come to me quite readily, but positive ones are often hard to come by. 

"Harry, you did it!" Sirius says, eyes widening in hope and joy. 

"Take on your Animagus form," I say. "I'll lead you out of here. I've got a portkey ready once we get past the wards." 

Sirius nods, and shifts form, changing into the shape of a large black dog. I lead us out back toward the entrance, my Patronus forging the way ahead of us. I stay focused. I must not allow the Dementors to break through my mental barriers. But they're clawing at my mind with thoughts of hopelessness and despair. How much longer can I keep this up? I swept away a horde of Dementors once, but that was a quick attack, not a sustained effort like this. 

"My Patronus is failing," I say. "Sirius, _run!_ " 

We make a mad dash for the exit as the duck wisps into vapor and vanishes. The full force of the Dementors' aura crashes down upon me. Why do I bother to run? There's no escape. I'll never be able to escape. I'm doomed. My soul belongs to them now. My life is forfeit... 

I can't make it. I'm surrounded by faceless, black-cloaked abominations, pressing in all around me. Keolah said that the Dementor's Kiss might not actually kill me, but I don't care to test that right now. I have _one_ escape that they can't take away from me, damn it. _Make me young._ I bring forth my Time Magic to force down my age to the breaking point where I vanish out of existence. 

* * *

I wake, still feeling the terrible, lingering effects of Dementor exposure. Poor Sirius... I failed to save him. I left him alone to a fate worse than death just to save myself. I wanted to _help_ him, damn it. Why did I ever think I was strong enough to do this? 

I force myself to get out of bed and get dressed reflexively, and stumble out of my room. I don't feel like doing anything. I don't feel like even trying to do the crazy scheme I had in mind. 

I enter the cafeteria of the School of Thought, and approach the woman serving pancakes. "I don't suppose you have any chocolate?" I ask. 

"Chocolate for breakfast?" she says, snorting softly. "Certainly not." 

Not much hope for a reprieve there, I suppose. I focus upon my meditation exercises, sending these feelings of hopelessness into the storm of emotions swirling about my mind. I am the eye of the storm. I might feel like crap, but there are still things I need to do regardless. I head out for the Nexus. 

I go through the motions, get into my family vault, go to Diagon Alley, change my money, buy a bag, and then I head straight to the nearest sweet shop and purchase a hefty amount of chocolate. I munch down on a bar of it until I'm feeling better, letting the warmth flow through me, before finishing up my shopping. 

Once done there, it's to the Floo for the Hog's Head. I drop Ariana's name to Dumbledore, and get a portkey to Azkaban. With that, it's back to the rocky island of doom to try again. I jet the old boat across and head across. 

" _Expecto Patronum_ ," I cast, bringing to mind the rainbow after the storm again, and head inside. 

I know exactly where I'm going this time, and waste no time in getting there. I head straight for Sirius's cell, deliberately putting the other prisoners out of mind with an effort. Guilt at not being able to save them all won't help get me and Sirius out of here safely. 

"Sirius!" I cry upon reaching his cell. "I'm here to rescue you." 

"Who's that?" Sirius wonders. "You... you look like James. With Lily's eyes. Harry? Little Harry, grown up so much already?" 

I focus my will upon the thought of freedom for all beings. " _Alohomora!_ " The door obediently opens on the first try this time. Maybe I should try this approach with more charms, provided I can find the positive emotions and thoughts for them. I pull out a bar of chocolate from my bag and pass it over to him, and nibble on a little myself. That'll help keep me going and my Patronus strong. 

"Turn into a dog, Sirius," I say. "I'll lead you out of here." 

Sirius finishes gobbling down the bit of chocolate, and shifts form. I make my way straight for the exit, followed closely by the big black dog. We make it to the gates, but the Dementors are still after us. More likely, after _me_ , because they'd have trouble sensing the dog. I make a beeline toward where I left the boat. 

We reach the boat, and I climb in, grabbing a hold of Padfoot and bracing myself. I let my Patronus keep the Dementors occupied and send us jetting across the water with an Energy Stream Curse. But there's so many of them. The Dementors keep following us, undeterred by the stormy sea. 

We reach the far shore. "Sirius!" I say, pulling out the butterbeer cork. "Portkey!" 

He shifts back into human form and puts his hand upon the cork as well. "We're past the wards. Let's go." 

"Skittles!" I say. The portkey yanks us across space, and away from the pursuing Dementors. 

The two of us land in the Hog's Head, panting and shivering, the place still empty but for Dumbledore and Aberforth. I bring out another bar of chocolate and break it in half, handing Sirius part of it. We made it with time to spare that time, so I don't mind stopping for a moment to rest. 

"Sirius, are you alright?" Dumbledore asks. "I must apologize for your incarceration... I did not learn of your innocence until just today." 

"I got another wand for you," I say, pulling out the spruce wand from my bag and passing it over. "It's not your original, but it should still be a good match." 

"Thanks," Sirius says. "I'm just glad to be out of there, and with my godson. I could hardly believe Harry came for me. What happened with Peter? Did you ever find him?" 

"Godson?" Dumbledore says, looking oddly to me. 

"Sirius, I'm not Harry," I say. "I just happen to look a bit like him. My name is Lexen Chelseer." 

Sirius stops eating his chocolate in mid-bite. "What? Where's Harry, then?" 

"I'm afraid I have unfortunate news for you," Dumbledore says. 

"He's dead," I say softly. "I'm sorry, Sirius." 

"What happened!?" Sirius demands. 

"An unfortunate accident occurred some years ago in the home of his Muggle family," Dumbledore explains. 

"You sent him to live with _Petunia_?" Sirius roars. "I can't believe it! Why would you do such a thing? She hates magic! Accident my tail!" 

"Sirius, calm down..." Dumbledore says. 

Sirius brings his new wand to bear against Dumbledore. I cast, " _Protego!_ " and step in between them. But Sirius's curse rips straight through my shield without stopping, and strikes my chest. 

I collapse to the ground. I can't breathe. Why did I do that? Foolish. Stupid. Dumbledore doesn't need my protection. I'm dying again. 

* * *

I wake with a sigh. At least I don't have to deal with any lingering Dementor effects this time. I quickly get dressed and head out, and go through the routine again to get my supplies and head out to Azkaban. This time, I pointedly tell Dumbledore _not_ to mention anything about Harry, period. 

I make my way straight in for Sirius's cell as quickly as I can. "Sirius, I've come to save you," I say. " _Alohomora!_ " All beings should be free! The cell door clatters open. 

"Is that... could it be... Harry?" Sirius says, stumbling out of the cell. 

I spent six years trying to make sure nobody found out that I wasn't Harry, and now I just wish that one person wouldn't immediately assume that I _am_ Harry. "No, not Harry," I say, handing him some chocolate and nibbling on a bit myself. "Sorry to disappoint. My name is Lexen Chelseer. Come on, let's get you out of here. Take on your Animagus form and I'll lead the way out." 

Sirius looks a little disappointed, but just nods, shifts form, and follows out after me. Better to stifle out that train of thought now rather than to be even more disappointed later. 

I keep the Dementors off of us with my duck Patronus, and we make it out to the boat. I jet us across, and we take the portkey back to the Hog's Head once on the far shore. 

I take a seat, handing Sirius some more chocolate, and listening to Dumbledore apologizing to him again while diplomatically not mentioning Harry. I also pointedly don't give Sirius his new wand yet. 

"So, what now?" Sirius says. "Am I a fugitive from the law, now?" 

"Sirius, I'm an interdimensional traveler," I say. "I want to take you with me to another universe. The Ministry will never be able to find you there. There's not much time left before the window of opportunity to leave this world closes, though. About an hour left." 

"Another universe?" Sirius says. "But what about the people here? What's happened to Remus? Where's Harry? Is he alright? And Peter... did you ever catch Peter?" 

"There's nothing to be done for Remus or Harry right now," I say. "But Peter... I know exactly where Peter is." 

Sirius lets out a soft growl. "Alright, tell you what. I'll go with you, on one condition. Let me get my revenge on _that rat_ first. Give me a chance to avenge James and Lily..." 

We got back from Azkaban in good time. There's still a little time left to make a stop at the Burrow to deal with Peter. "Agreed," I say. I activate my Time Magic to make myself look like an eleven year old boy. "Alright, Padfoot, I want you to pretend to be my pet dog." 

"You--" Sirius says, blinking at me. 

"I can change my apparent age," I say. "Come on, we're on a tight schedule." 

"Alright," Sirius says, changing into a large black dog again. 

I grab a hold of Padfoot and toss a bit of Floo powder into the fireplace. "The Burrow!" 

I tumble out of the fireplace at the far end and land with a dog butt in my face. I'm _never_ going to get the hang of the Floo. 

Arthur is in the room reading the _Daily Prophet_ when we arrange. He demands, "Who are you?" 

"Hello!" I say cheerfully, collecting myself and standing up. "I'm Lexen Chelseer. I heard your son, Ron, is going to be in my year starting at Hogwarts this year, so I thought I'd come and visit and say hi!" 

"Well, it would have been nice to notify us that you were coming first," Arthur says. 

Ron appears at the foot of the stairs, and says, "Who's that?" 

Padfoot growls, spotting the rat whose head is poking out of Ron's pocket. The rat drops to the floor and takes off at a rapid scurry. The dog chases off after him, followed by Ron, followed by me. 

"That dog is after Scabbers!" Ron cries. "Scabbers, come back! Don't you dare hurt Scabbers, you mangy beast!" 

I pull out my wand and cast, " _Stupefy!_ " Unfortunately, I hit Ron rather than the rat. Ron tumbles to the floor, unconscious. 

"What are you doing?" Arthur exclaims. "You're no little boy just about to start Hogwarts!" 

" _Impedimenta!_ " I cast, but the spell strikes a wall as the rat zips around a corner. 

" _Stupefy!_ " Arthur casts. 

I duck out of the way and cast, " _Protego!_ " 

"Who _are_ you, and what do you want in my home?" Arthur demands, pointing his wand at me. I let the two Animagi play chase for the moment as I turn to deal with the more immediate threat. 

"That _rat_ is an illegal Animagus," I say. "And a murderer. Look, I really don't have time to explain at the moment. I'm sorry. _Stupefy!_ " 

Arthur falls unconscious. And then, WHACK! The next thing I know, I feel a sharp pain on my head. The world spins, and I fall over. The last thing I see is Molly Weasley, brandishing a frying pan like a cudgel. 

* * *

I wake with a groan. How did it ever happen that breaking into Azkaban was the _easiest_ part of this crazy scheme? And I wouldn't mind being killed by Molly Weasley, but she could have at least done it with a wand! Death by frying pan is just embarrassing. 

I get dressed and go through my routine again. I pick up my supplies in Diagon Alley, with the addition of a Wideye Potion to stave off my slowly increasing tiredness. 

As I'm going about shopping, I spend a moment thinking how killing Peter might go over better. Maybe if I dropped in at a nearby house and walked over to the door. I definitely don't have time to owl ahead. Who else lives nearby? Luna! That's it! She'll know exactly who I am at a glance and readily agree to help me out, no doubt. 

Then it's to the Hog's Head to pick up my portkey to Azkaban, and make my way in one more time. I've done this so many times that I'm at least shaving off a few minutes here and there each time. Which is good, because at this rate, I'm going to need every minute I can get. 

"Sirius! My name is Lexen Chelseer, and I'm here to get you out of this place!" I say. " _Alohomora!_ " The door clatters open, and I step inside and hand him a piece of chocolate. 

"Lexen?" Sirius says dumbly, eating the chocolate quickly. "How--" 

"No questions," I say. "We're a little pressed for time now. I promise I'll answer everything later. Change into your Animagus form and let's go." I quickly lead the way out of the prison and to the boat. Along the way, I try to take a moment out to give some quick explanations. "I'm from another universe. When we get out of here, I can take you away to someplace the Ministry and the Dementors will never find you. But I understand, before we go, you'll probably want to get revenge on Peter, right?" 

Padfoot barks excitedly and lets out a low growl, as we climb onto the boat. 

"Thought so," I say, grinning wickedly and jetting us across the water. "I know where he is, and I'll take us to him." 

Once on the shore, we take the portkey back to the Hog's Head, and I listen to Dumbledore apologizing again while we munch on a bit of chocolate. Then, it's over to the fireplace. I toss in a pinch of powder and say, "Lovegood residence!" 

Ten year old Luna Lovegood looks up at us as we tumble out of the fireplace. "Oh, hello, Stormseeker," Luna says. 

"Hi, Luna," I say. "Can you do me a favor? I need to get over to the Weasley residence with Stubby Boardman here, without spooking them, and I'm short on time. I've got less than an hour." 

Luna cocks her head at me, and says, "Alright. Let's go." She calls out, "Dad, I'm heading over to the Burrow with a time traveler from another dimension and an Azkaban escapee who is actually a singer!" 

"Alright, dear!" Mr. Lovegood calls back. "Be sure to be back in time for dinner!" 

Sirius looks at her oddly as we head out the door. "Your father is very strange. He didn't even bat an eye at that?" 

"I suppose it must run in the family," I say with a shrug. "Thanks for the help, Luna." 

"Watch out for nargles," Luna says. 

"How far is the Burrow from here?" I ask. 

"We can get there in thirty minutes if we hurry," Luna says. 

I pick up the pace. "I suppose they're less likely to freak out if we show up at their front door rather than unexpectedly out the Floo." 

"So Peter is hiding at this Burrow, I take it?" Sirius asks. 

"He's been pretending to be their pet rat," I say. "Oh, yeah, I got this for you." I pull out the spruce wand from my bag and pass it over to him. It lets out sparks when he swishes it. 

"How did you find me a good match for a wand?" Sirius asks. 

"Time traveler," I explain. 

"Oh," Sirius says. "Right. But, er, I'm not a singer." 

"Don't worry, Stubby Boardman," Luna says. "Your secret is safe with me." 

"Padfoot, I want you pretend to be my pet dog while we're there," I say. "But stay out of sight at first, so Wormtail doesn't bolt for cover. We'll find him and bring him to you. Can you wait for us outside?" 

"Alright," Sirius says. He shifts into dog form again. 

This is going to be cutting it short, but hopefully I can get this done without getting killed by a frying pan, at the very least. 

We arrive at the Burrow, and Luna knocks on the door. Arthur Weasley comes and answers it. "Oh, hello, Luna. Who's your friend here?" 

"I'm Lexen Chelseer," I say brightly. "I just moved here from America! I'm going to be starting at Hogwarts this year. It's nice to meet you!" 

"Oh, really?" Arthur says. "You must be about the same age as Ron, then. Why don't you come in and you can meet him." 

" _Stay_ , Padfoot," I say, pointing at the ground. 

Padfoot obediently plants his bottom on the ground and pants at me. 

Luna and I go inside. Ron comes down the stairs and says, "Oh, it's Luna Lovegood. And a new boy? I don't remember seeing you around before. Are you starting Hogwarts this year, too?" 

"Yup!" I say. "I just moved here from the United States. Are you excited? I certainly am. Is that a rat in your pocket?" 

"Oh, yeah, this is just Scabbers," Ron says. "He's kind of useless, though. He just sleeps all the time." 

"Can I see him?" I say. 

"Sure," Ron says. He pulls the lethargic rodent out of his pocket and passes him over to me. "Do you like rats?" 

"They're okay," I say. "I've got a pet of my own! I'm sure he'd love to meet your rat!" 

"It's not a cat, is it?" Ron says. 

"Nope!" I say. As I head for the door, I discreetly slip out my wand and whisper, " _Stupefy_." Wormtail goes limp in my hand. I step outside. "Look, boy!" I say. "I've brought you a new friend! Say hello to Scabbers!" I set the rat down on the ground in front of Padfoot. 

Padfoot growls, and proceeds to rip the rat apart with his teeth. 

"Merlin, he's eating my rat!" Ron shrieks. 

" _Bad_ dog, _bad!_ " I scold. After a moment, there's nothing left of Wormtail but a shredded and bloody corpse. 

"Lexen's dog killed my rat!" Ron screams, running inside. 

"I'm sorry!" I say. "I'm really, really sorry about this!" I follow him inside and put my hand on his shoulder. "Look, I'm sorry, he's never done this before!" I pull out the pouch of extra galleons from my bag of holding and hand it over to him. "Buy yourself a new rat or something. Please, I'm really, really, really sorry!" 

I've got an unconverted extra gold bar in my bag of holding, and a few gemstones for good measure as well. It'll be easier to convert those than take galleons out of this world anyway. 

Ron opens the bag curiously, and his eyes practically pop. "No, I can't take this!" 

"Maybe you'd rather buy an owl instead?" I say. "Look, I'm sorry, maybe I should go... I'll just go now, alright?" 

I head quickly for the door before anyone can say anything else. I'm late as it is. It's past time for the attack. We still might manage to slip through, but it's going to be rough going. 

"Come on, Padfoot," I say quietly but urgently. "Hurry. Human form, quick." 

"What's up?" Sirius asks once he's back as a man again. I shift into a form I'm more comfortable with, myself: a fifteen year old boy. 

"Put up a Shield Charm," I say. "We're late, and we're going to be dropping into a warzone to get to the next universe. I think I can probably get us through fast enough, but it's going to be dangerous." 

"Well, I've avenged James and Lily, thanks to you," Sirius says. "So I'll take that leap of faith with you. _Protego!_ " 

" _Protego_ ," I cast. 

Arthur Weasley pokes his head out of the door and peers at us, and says, "What's going on here?" 

"Goodbye, Arthur," I say. "You won't see us again. Keep the money for the trouble." 

"Goodbye, Stormseeker," Luna says from behind him. "Goodbye, Stubby Boardman." 

I put my arms securely around Sirius and activate my magic to Recall both of us to the Nexus. 

There's fire and shadows in the air in Torn Elkandu. People are screaming, defending themselves with whatever magic they have. Sedder's maniacal laughter echoes over it all as he cuts down everything in his path. 

I don't spare a moment to take in the setting. I activate the Nexus again, bringing to mind the image of that town in Nodye Coast. The Shaper town, with the domes and the strange creatures. Spells are pelting our shields. A stray spell catches me on the leg, and I very nearly lose my concentration, but I hold onto the image firmly. The glowing mists surround us and take us away to safety.


	3. Welcome to Terrestia

I pant in exhaustion, leaning against Sirius. Now that I'm no longer running on adrenaline, I realize just how tired I am. My leg stings, and I look down to see a burn mark on my new robes. 

" _Episkey. Reparo_ ," I mutter, waving my wand. 

"You alright?" Sirius asks. 

"Yeah," I say. "You?" 

"They didn't touch me," Sirius says. "Can I ask questions now?" 

"We... we're safe," I say weakly. "No more need to rush. Ask away." 

"Where _are_ we?" Sirius asks. 

"Someplace called Nodye Coast, on the world of Terrestia," I reply. "I know nothing about this place. Why don't we get a little ways away from town and pitch the tent, and rest up a bit? We can do some exploring tomorrow. I'm half dead after the day I've just been through." 

"Alright," Sirius says. 

We head away from town, across some farmland, toward what appears to be an orchard. 

As we walk, Sirius asks, "What was that place we passed through to get here? I didn't really get a good look at it." 

"The Nexus is a powerful teleportation device that allows travel between different worlds," I explain. "And Torn Elkandu is a sort of pocket world that some consider to be the center of the multiverse. Whether that's actually true or not, or if the multiverse even _has_ a center, I don't know." 

"There seemed to be some kind of a battle going on there," Sirius says. 

I nod. "An attack by dark wizards." I look around at a shady spot in the orchard, at least somewhat out of sight. "Good enough. I don't think I could stand to walk any further." I drop down the tent and start trying to unfold it. "Gah, you know how to put up one of these things, right?" 

Sirius pulls out his wand and says, " _Erecto_." The tent obediently unfolds and erects itself. Sirius pokes his head inside, and I follow after him. "Nice. Four bedrooms? This must have cost a pretty knut." 

"Well worth it," I say. "Sides, I'm from an old pureblood family, too. I hardly touched my vault." I pull out my bag and show him the gold bar and gemstones. "We can see about getting some local currency for these tomorrow." 

"I don't suppose you brought any food, too?" Sirius asks. "I could go in for a real meal about now." 

"Just the chocolate," I say. "I was in a bit of a rush, but I wasn't going to forget about _that_." 

"Why don't you get some rest, then, and I can see about going into town to get some money and food?" Sirius suggests. 

"I don't... I don't want anything bad to happen to you," I say. "Not after all the trouble I went to in order to get you here." 

"I'm sure I can handle myself," Sirius says. "And look at you, you're dead on your feet. You wouldn't be much help in a fight at the moment, if it came to me." 

"It's not that," I say. "I should explain my power, I think. You see, whenever I die, I go back in time. Usually, it's to the morning of the same day, although a few things like the Killing Curse will return me to the morning of the day I first died. Today, in other words." 

"That's a strange sort of power," Sirius says. 

"On the day of my first death, there's an attack on Torn Elkandu six hours after I wake up -- as you saw when we passed through there. So if I want to do anything with the Nexus there, I have to be quick about it." 

"So, you want to sleep now, so that if you die while we're looking around the town, you'll wake up _after_ we arrived on this world, and not back in Torn Elkandu?" Sirius says. "Do I have this right?" 

"Exactly," I say. "I know nothing about this world, so I'd rather be a little paranoid at the moment than regret it." 

"Alright," Sirius says. "I wouldn't mind something decent to eat, but I'll wait for you to wake up and watch over you while you sleep." 

"Thanks, Sirius," I say, grinning at him. I pull out the remainder of the chocolate I'd bought from my bag of holding and pass it over to him. "Have the rest of the chocolate. It won't make up for ten years in Azkaban, but it's the least I can do." 

"Tomorrow, you've got a lot of questions to answer," Sirius says. "I'm going to make a list." 

I chuckle softly. "And I'll answer all of them." 

I head into one of the bedrooms to sleep. 

* * *

I'm running through a sewer, being chased by a basilisk. It's behind me, but I can't look back, or I'll die. I don't know how far it is behind me. I trip over something soft, and glance down to see the bodies of my twin cousins. The two young girls open their eyes in unison -- blank, dead eyes. They grasp at me with pale, bloodless hands, and hold me firmly in place, helplessly screaming... 

"Lexen!" says Sirius's voice, as if from a great distance. 

I groan softly, and open my eyes. It was just a dream. "Nngh..." 

"You were screaming," Sirius says. "Are you alright?" 

"Just a nightmare," I say. I was only out for two hours, and I'm still very tired. I shake my head and get up. "Good enough for now. That'll at least anchor me into this world. I'll sleep more later, I suppose. I'll get dressed and we can head into town." 

We pack up and return back toward the town. "So, not that I'm complaining or anything," Sirius says on the way back. "But why did you go to such trouble to bring _me_ along, of all people? I assume we must have known one another in another timeline or something..." 

I give a nod. "We were... pretty close, yeah," I say. 

"So tell me then, what was this other timeline like?" Sirius wonders. 

"I spent four years there," I say. "The previous visit there lasted two years. I was ten years old to start off with, so that makes me mentally sixteen years old." 

"You died in second year, and fourth year?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. 

I give a nod. "First time to a basilisk's gaze, second time to a Killing Curse." 

"How did that come about?" Sirius asks. 

"Let me start at the beginning," I say. "There's something I ought to tell you that I didn't want to mention until we were here. Your godson, Harry Potter? He, well, he died at the age of five. Dumbledore left him with Petunia and Vernon Dursley, and he fell down the stairs." 

" _What?_ " Sirius roars. "Lily would have a fit if she knew Dumbledore had left her son with her horrible sister! Why, if Dumbledore were here, I'd show him exactly what I think of that..." 

"I know," I say quietly. "That's why I didn't tell you until we were out of that world. You _did_ attack Dumbledore, and I had to go back and do it over." 

"Oh," Sirius says, a little sheepishly. "Um... sorry?" 

"Dumbledore had set me up to pretend to be Harry Potter, since I look kind of like him," I say. "I never told the you in that timeline that I wasn't really your godson. I was afraid of how you might react. But now? I'm not going to keep any secrets from you. I'll tell you anything." 

"Yeah, I can understand that, I suppose," Sirius says, frowning. "I doubt I would have reacted well to a revelation like that." 

"The way I see it, I defeated the Dark Lord in one timeline, he's Dumbledore's problem now," I say. "I gave him some information I gained from the future. What he does with it is his business." 

"Still, poor Harry..." Sirius says, sighing. 

"If I ever find a way to save him, I will," I say. 

"I was going to ask you a bunch of questions, but I just forgot them all again," Sirius says. 

I chuckle softly. "It's alright. We have all the time in the world now. You're a free man, here." 

"Well, whatever reason you had to decide to bring me with you, I would be a fool to be ungrateful about it," Sirius says. 

We step into the town and start to look around. It's late afternoon here, and the sun is starting to sink low in the sky. I'm cautious and alert, constantly looking around and aware of my surroundings, and I notice that Sirius behaves similarly. It's not really paranoia, I don't think. Just constant vigilance, as Moody might say. 

Sirius pauses to peer into a stable full of strange creatures, and I peek over to look in myself. There's a four-legged dog-like orange reptile, a floating fuzzy squid-like thing, a beige-colored plated worm creature, and a tall muscular humanoid with greenish-gray skin. 

"Even if this place _is_ going to take some getting used to," Sirius adds quietly. "It's going to take a crash course in the local equivalent of Care of Magical Creatures just to identify the stuff in the stables." 

"Just so long as the books don't try to bite us," I comment. 

We continue on into a market square. There's a number of squat stone buildings situated around a plaza, each with signs hanging out proclaiming different wares. Judging by the words on the signs and the talk I can overhear around us, the people here also conveniently speak English for whatever reason. I really ought to have made sure of that before deciding to come here, but it entirely slipped my mind. 

We step inside of one shop marked with a sign showing a ring. There's a woman wearing a lacey yellow dress standing behind the counter, who gives us a bit of an odd look as we enter. 

"Welcome to Jodi's Jewelry," the woman says. "I'm Jodi. What can I do for you?" 

"Is this the right place to go if we want to sell gemstones and precious metals?" Sirius says. 

"I'll give you a good price on those," Jodi replies. I take out the gold bar and gems from my bag and lay them on the counter for her inspection. "You traveling merchants, mages or something?" 

"Mages, yes," Sirius says. 

"You just come in from the east?" Jodi says. "They say there's lots of opportunity to be had out there, but me, I'd rather stay here where it's nice and safe, and there's actually paved streets and clean water." 

"It's good to see the world," Sirius says vaguely. 

Jodi glances toward me. "And I certainly wouldn't want to take any son of mine into harm's way." Maybe I should have taken on the appearance of an adult, and pretended to be Sirius's friend and business partner or something instead. 

"He's a good lad," Sirius says. "It's excellent experience for him." 

"Well, that's your business," Jodi says, shrugging. She lowers her voice and says, "Just between you and me, if you've been teaching him magic without authorization, you'd better not let the Shapers hear about that. They might be more lenient about that sort of thing on the frontier, but around here, they're strict about the rules." 

"Thanks for the tip," Sirius says, smirking faintly. Magic is regulated around here? I suppose that might be considered sensible. 

"Are you a mage, too?" I ask. 

"Me?" Jodi says, and scoffs. "Oh, no. I'm just an ordinary outsider human, never cast a spell in my life. Never wanted to get involved with that sort of business, anyway. I'm quite happy with what I do. Now, let's see. I'll give you fifty coins for this one, one hundred for this one..." She tallies out prices for all of the gems. 

"We'll take it," Sirius says. 

Jodi fills up a pouch with small coins and passes it over, and I take it and tuck it away in my bag of holding. With that, we go and do some shopping, and pick up some food and supplies. We opt not to stay at the inn, and just go back outside to set up the tent again. 

"So, magic is regulated by the Shapers in this world," I comment as we're walking back to the orchard. "And the Muggles seem to be perfectly aware that it exists." 

"At least not _too_ closely regulated," Sirius says. "We weren't exactly arrested just for being unauthorized mages or anything. It sounded like it was mainly _teaching_ that was regulated." He frowns for a moment. "And the way she talked seemed to imply that she could have learned magic if she had wanted to, so maybe she _wasn't_ technically a Muggle." 

"Why would someone capable of magic not want to learn it?" I wonder. 

"Maybe you haven't seen it, but there's plenty of wizards in my world who never go to Hogwarts," Sirius says. "They might go into trades or apprenticeships instead, and do jobs like driving the Knight Bus, or keeping shops, or other things that don't really require a wide range of magic. Especially if they aren't from a wealthy family, or don't have much talent to begin with." 

"I see," I say, frowning. "I suppose it's premature to make any assumptions. We'll have to do some more research and exploration to determine if it's true that there aren't any Muggles here and _everyone_ would be capable of learning magic if they wanted to." 

"Or managed to get the authorization to," Sirius says, smirking. "You know, I didn't want to be a registered Animagus. I don't think that I'd want to have to be a registered wizard, either." 

We set up the tent, and head inside to have some dinner. Sirius eats like a starving man. I can't imagine that he was fed very well while in Azkaban. 

"Ahh," Sirius says, leaning back after finishing his meal. "That was the best thing I have ever tasted, I think." 

Maybe just the best thing he can remember, at any rate. Did the Dementors even take from him every memory of good food? But at least he's got his life back now, even if it might not be in any way he'd have ever anticipated. 

I head into my bedroom for some sleep. I wish I had access to Dream Sweets here, the magical candies that would give me good dreams. I used them heavily in my last life to fend off my nightmares. Sirius and Remus warned me that they were addictive, and I became shamelessly addicted to them. But unfortunately, because of that, anytime I didn't use them, the nightmares were far, far worse than they normally were. I miss them badly right now. 

* * *

I wake up in my tent after a night of horrible nightmares. I'm exhausted, feeling like I haven't slept at all. I groan and rub my eyes, and absently get up to get dressed, but it's like I'm moving through a haze. Combined with the exertion and number of repeats of yesterday, this isn't a good state to be in at all. Maybe some breakfast will help. 

"Lexen?" Sirius says, looking me over as I sit down to eat. "You don't look good. Did you sleep alright?" 

"No," I reply. "More nightmares. I don't feel like I slept at all." 

"I know what that's like," Sirius says. "I still had nightmares, myself, but it was still the best night I can remember. Have I thanked you yet for getting me away from the Dementors?" 

I smile at him. "I'm glad to hear that." I sigh. "It just feels like it did whenever I tried to sleep without Dream Sweets..." 

"You used Dream Sweets?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. "Those things are _really_ addictive..." 

"And I wouldn't expect to still be addicted to them after dying and going back in time," I say. 

"Why did you even get started on them in the first place?" Sirius asks. 

"I wasn't really having a good year," I say. "You'd escaped from Azkaban and they'd surrounded Hogwarts with Dementors trying to catch you. And then there was a little accident with Remus and I inadvertently got infected with lycanthropy, and had a lot of fun trying to cover that up. The only upside to that year was you, and I thought you were an ordinary dog for half of it. Heh, they were working so hard trying to keep you out of the school, when I'd smuggled you in and hid you away in the Slytherin dorms all year." 

"You were a Slytherin?" Sirius asks. 

"No, I was a Gryffindor," I say. "But I didn't get along with some of my dormmates, so I hung out with the Slytherins more." 

"I see," Sirius says, frowning a little. "Well, I'm hardly going to judge you for that. Back to the matter at hand, what if you _are_ still addicted to the Dream Sweets?" 

"That... would be really bad," I say, sighing. 

"Yeah," Sirius says. "They hit you back threefold. Every good dream you have, you have three nightmares, three times as bad as they normally would be. I tried them out myself, once. _Once_. Never again. How much did you use them?" 

"Every night for a year and a half," I reply. 

Sirius groans softly. "You realize that would cause you _four and a half years_ of withdrawal symptoms?" 

I stare at him. "I really hope you're wrong about that." 

"For your sake, so do I," Sirius says. "Can you function at the moment?" 

"Hmm, well," I muse. " _Physically_ , I feel fine. It just seems like my mind still wants rest. I can manage, and follow you around well enough, just don't expect too much out of me." 

"Alright," Sirius says. "Tell me, why did you decide to come to this world in the first place?" 

"Exploration, gathering knowledge," I say. "I'd hoped to sign up for the Nodye Coast Shaper School and learn about what magical arts they teach here. I've been trying to gain whatever magical knowledge and power that I can, in order to fight those dark wizards that you saw attacking Torn Elkandu. I want to eventually be able to go back in time to the day I first died, and defeat them." 

"I see," Sirius says. "Well, signing up for any magical instruction may not be feasable in your current state. We'll have to see if you recover soon, and maybe try it then." 

"Yeah," I agree. "I'm sure I could cast simple spells right now, but nothing big or complicated." 

"Leave it to me," Sirius says. "I won't let any harm come to you." 

We finish breakfast, and I follow along after Sirius back to town, my mind still in a fog. He starts asking discreet questions, learning about this world and how things work here. 

"It's good that you brought some valuables to sell to start off with," Sirius comments to me quietly. "But that money won't last forever. I think it might be a good idea to get some sort of income going. They're offering decent money for courier jobs, it looks like. That would give us a chance to see the world without drawing too many questions about where we're really from." 

"Good idea," I say. 

"I hope you don't mind walking a lot," Sirius says, chuckling. "Why didn't you bring a broom, too?" 

"I hate brooms," I say. "I'm rubbish with them. And have you seen any here? Other than the ones the short people with long noses are using to sweep with, at any rate." 

"Good point," Sirius says. "You only brought stuff that wouldn't draw too much attention at a glance. Smart planning, really." 

Sirius picks up a courier job for a place called Mera-Tev. And buys a map. We leave the town heading east toward the mountains. As we go, I take a longing, weary look back toward the town, thinking of the Shaping school there. Maybe I'll be back one day to learn Shaping. But for now, there's no rush. We can explore. We have all the time in the world. 

* * *

I wake after another string of nightmares, but it seems like I hardly wake at all. It's like the waking world has become the dream for me, a peaceful reprieve from the terrors of the night. 

I follow along after Sirius, hardly seeing the world around me. My mind is adrift in a deepening fog, and hallucinations start to encroach upon my vision. With this strange, new world, I can no longer tell what is real and what is not. 

Sirius is the only steady thing, the only rock of stability in the stormy sea of my mind. I follow him blindly. I do everything he asks me to without thinking. 

"Don't worry, Lexen," Sirius assures me. "I'll keep you safe." 

And the days pass into obscurity. I can no longer distinguish the passing of one day to the next. I cannot remember what happened the previous day. 

Normally, this might cause me to panic, but I'm at ease. I'm calm, content, and at peace. I trust Sirius. He won't let any harm come to me. He will keep me safe.


	4. Stranded

I open my eyes, and wake, for what feels like the first time in longer than I can remember. It's like waking up from a long, long dream. A long, long _nightmare_. 

I'm laying on my back, looking up at a clear, blue sky. The sun is shining down from above, warm and inviting. A salty breeze blows across my skin. 

I'm rocking gently, on top of something... smooth and scaly? I blink, and sit up, only to discover that I'm surrounded by water, in the midst of an ocean. I'm riding on the flattened back of a large, reptilian creature. It has a long neck, a head raised above the water like a mast, gazing off into the distance. 

Sirius is sitting next to me, and he glances down at me as I wake. I frantically poke around my pockets for my wand. I can't swim! What if I fell in? I can't find my wand. I can't find my bag of holding, either. What's going on? 

In the midst of my panicking, I accidentally tumble over the side of the reptile and sink into the water. I flail about frantically. Seawater fills me up. I'm drowning! I'm going to die! I slip down into darkness. 

* * *

My eyes snap open again. I'm back where I was, laying on top of the back of the strange reptile. What was that? Oh, right. I'm an immortal time traveler. How did I manage to forget that? 

I try to stay calm this time, but the sight of so much water around me unnerves me, and not having my wand with me makes me extremely uneasy. 

"Relax, Lexen, it's alright," Sirius says, putting a hand on my arm. Sirius's presence is comforting. 

"But I can't swim," I whimper. 

"Lexen?" Sirius says, looking at me oddly, and his eyes widen. "Lexen, how did you sleep?" 

"Alright, I guess," I say. "I had some bad dreams." 

"You're talking again, though," Sirius says. "That's a good sign." 

"Huh?" I say. "Why wouldn't I be talking?" 

"You don't remember anything?" Sirius says. 

"Well, sure, I remember plenty of things," I say. "But nothing about not talking." 

"I meant of the past four and a half years," Sirius says. 

"Where _are_ we, anyway?" I say. "And what is this... creature. Some sort of water dragon?" 

"A sea drayk," Sirius explains. "We're on the world of Terrestia. Do you remember that much? Do you know who I am? Do you remember rescuing me from Azkaban and bringing me here?" 

I think back. My mind is sluggish, and it's hard to remember. Everything seems patchy and vague. "I think so," I say. "You're Sirius Black. It just seems like a long, long time ago, though." 

"What's the last thing you remember?" Sirius asks. 

"I couldn't really tell you, exactly," I say. 

"Do you remember the six years you spent in my world?" Sirius asks. 

I nod. "I remember. I remember playing with you, in your dog form. I remember my friends. I remember being eager to learn spells. It's alright. It just seems like it was a long time ago. It's not really clear anymore." I frown. "So what happened, anyway?" 

"You were addicted to Dream Sweets," Sirius says. "Do you remember _that_?" 

"Dream Sweets..." I murmur thoughtfully. "Blaise gave them to me for Christmas one year. I thought they were my salvation. Is that what did this to me?" 

Sirius gives a nod. "Threefold nightmares for every sweet dream," Sirius says. "I've seen men whose lives were ruined by the things. Even if they manage to get past the withdrawal, there's always a chance of further lingering effects, especially when they were using them for a long time." 

"So I might still have further mental problems?" I say. "What have I been doing for the last four and a half years if I don't remember it? I wasn't talking, you say?" 

"You were pretty much, well, mentally disabled, really," Sirius says. "You could follow me around and perform simple commands. You wouldn't listen to anyone but me, though, and you'd freak out if I ever left you alone for long." 

"I'm sorry," I whisper, gazing off into the deep blue sea. "I wanted to help you out and give you a new life. I never meant to be a burden on you. Please forgive me." 

"You're forgiven before you ever thought to ask," Sirius says gently. "I don't think you realized that your actions could have lasting consequences like that. You're just lucky your lycanthropy didn't carry over, as well." 

"I'll be more careful in the future," I promise. "Has it been hard, these past few years?" 

"It's been pretty good, actually," Sirius says. "I've been working as a courier still, traveling all over Terrestia, seeing the world, learning about it. It hasn't been a bad life. Especially with that tent you brought along. Although, perhaps I should ask you to forgive me as well. I've been having you do menial tasks and chores like a house-elf for the past few years... It kept your mind occupied and made you calmer and less likely to freak out over something..." 

I chuckle softly, "You're forgiven before you asked." 

"But I must say, it's good to have you back," Sirius says. 

"So is that what we're doing now?" I say, gazing off at the horizon. "A courier job?" 

"Yeah," Sirius says. "The Shapers paid me well for this delivery to a remote island colony. They even lent me the use of one of their sea drayks for it. Want some breakfast?" 

"Sure," I say. "Then afterward, I want to try and meditate for a bit. See if I can sort out my memories." I sigh. "I remember being utterly terrified of Obliviation at one point. I don't like to forget things." And yet, why am I so calm about it? 

"Understandable," Sirius says. 

I'm also still uneasy about being on top of a swimming creature in the middle of an ocean, and nothing to stop me from accidentally falling in. But the fact that it's some sort of relative of a dragon is awesome, anyway. 

Once some food is in my stomach, I settle into a cross-legged position and close my eyes, focusing my thoughts inward. I put my memories in order, thinking about my childhood in Wishingsdale, and where things went from there, one thing at a time, in a row, one thing after another. It's surprisingly difficult to do. I'm a time traveler. My life does not just go in a straight line. 

Still, I spend the majority of the day trying to make some semblance of sense of my life. No matter what I do, however, I cannot penetrate the past four and a half years beyond a wall of nightmares. I shudder involuntarily when I try to get through it. I spend over an hour delving into it, and can only come to the conclusion that the nightmares are the _only_ things I can remember of the time period, no matter what I do. 

My heart twinges at the thought of all the wonderful things I must have seen during those years, traveling with Sirius. And yet they're locked to me behind an impenetrable wall. I want to remember, I really, really do. But there's nothing there but an unbroken chain of nightmares and torment. 

I come out of my meditation, giving up on this for now, tears coming to my eyes. Sirius reaches over an arm and pulls me close, and I bury my face in his shoulder. 

"What's wrong, Lexen?" Sirius asks. 

"I can remember what happened before," I murmur. "But I can't remember anything of this world but the first day here. It's all gone. All those wonderful journeys we must have had. All gone." My body trembles, sobbing softly. 

"Shh, Lexen, it's alright," Sirius says. "It's alright. You're alive and well right now, aren't you?" 

"Yeah..." I whisper. "Yeah..." 

"Well, just think," Sirius says. "Now we get to discover this wonderful world all over again, right? Everything is new to you, and I can show you everything you've missed. I'll do whatever I can to help, but there's no use dwelling over what's done and you can't change." 

"I'm a time traveler," I point out. 

Sirius laughs softly. "So you are. All the more reason not to worry about it. Be thankful for what you have. Things aren't so bad, are they? You've got me, and you've got this big, wide world to explore." He grins broadly. "And just think of how much more trouble we can get into now that you can help plot my more complicated pranks." 

I stare at him. "Sirius, have you been _pranking_ this world?" 

Sirius looks around shiftily. "Maybe a little," he says, grinning crookedly. "Nothing big yet, though. You couldn't follow any really complex instructions, but you've been a great help with the warmups I've been doing..." 

"You've made me an accomplice to your pranking?" I say. "You... you're incredible!" I can't help but laugh aloud, though. 

"Oh, yes," Sirius says. "These Shapers take themselves _way_ too seriously. Someone's got to knock them down a peg or two. Discreetly. Without getting caught and executed, after all." 

"If you'd been caught and executed, I'd have gone back in time and killed you," I say. 

Sirius just laughs again. We eat some dinner, and I curl up for some peaceful sleep. 

* * *

I wake when the morning sunlight starts coming over the edge of the ocean. I had some bad dreams still. Nothing that could really be called a nightmare. Not the mind-wrenching horror of the past four and a half years. Just... sort of unpleasant ones. I still feel well-rested, and my mind is sharp and clear. 

I sit up, stretching. Sirius is still sound asleep. In the distance, I see a hazy dark spot on the horizon. An island, perhaps? We're not heading toward it, however, but passing by it. We won't even be getting close enough to really get a look, the way we're going. 

I pick Sirius's pocket and pull out the bag of holding, and sift around inside. Ah, there's my wand. He must have wanted to keep it safe, given the state I've been in. I also find a parchment that I think is a map, and unroll it. 

It's blank. I frown a little, and then with a small grin, I tap it with my wand and say, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." 

Words spread across the parchment, stating, "For your pranking pleasure, Padfoot proudly presents, the Marauder's Map: Terrestia Edition". 

The map first shows the known world of Terrestia, at least the parts of it that I assume Sirius has been to. He's certainly been _busy_ these past few years. Major cities and landmarks are labeled. There's also a small dot slowly moving across the ocean, with the names "Sirius Black" and "Lexen Chelseer" next to it. 

Upon closer examination of our position, the map zooms in to show the area around us. That island off to the right shows up, labeled, "Sucia Island (unexplored, Barred by the Shapers)". 

I wonder what that might mean. The Shapers forbid people from going there? Why, I wonder? Is there something dangerous there? 

I move forward and tell the sea drayk, "Hey. Hey, can you take us closer to that island over there?" I point off, but it's looking away. "Turn right!" The sea drayk lazily looks down at me in confusion. "Please? You're totally awesome, and I want to see that island over that way." 

The sea drayk gives a nod of its reptilian head, and shifts course, turning around to head straight for Sucia Island. I beam broadly, and thank the creature before returning to where I was sitting next to Sirius. 

I return to examining the map. It seems that what he actually did was start with a pre-existing map of the world, and filled it in with what he saw. Unlike the Hogwarts map, it doesn't seem to show everyone in the world, which is probably just as well. It could be very handy, though, to know where the other person is if we ever got separated. 

Although, I wonder what it says that in the almost five years he's spent here, he doesn't seem to have gotten close to anyone else. There weren't any other people traveling with us, and no one that he cares about tracking is marked on the map. Well, that's his choice, I suppose. For all I know, he has casual acquaintances in every town. 

"Mischief managed," I say quietly, poking the map, and the parchment blanks again. I fold it up and put it away, and bring out some food before tucking the bag safely away into my pocket. 

Sucia Island is looming larger into view as Sirius finally stirs. 

"Finally up, Sirius?" I ask. 

Sirius grumbles. "You're always up so early. I'm not a morning person." He peers off at the island that we're approaching. "I didn't think we'd be there already." 

"Oh, we're not," I say. "This is Sucia Island. The map listed it as unexplored and Barred, so I wanted to take a closer look at it." 

"You found the map, did you?" Sirius says. "I've spent ages trying to get that right, but I don't think it's quite there yet." 

"What does it mean for a place to be Barred, anyway?" I ask. 

"It means that the Shapers have forbidden anyone to go there, even their own people," Sirius says. "Usually because an experiment went wrong, some sort of accident occurred, or perhaps a dangerous secret was discovered that they want people to forget about." He snorts softly. "Of course, most of what I've heard about them has been rumor and hearsay." 

"So, it could be dangerous, and it could also be potentially very interesting," I say. A grin widens across my face. "Why don't we go find out?" 

"Sure, why not?" Sirius says, chuckling. "Our delivery will be late, but I don't think I care. This will be much more interesting than a simple courier mission. This will be... an _adventure!_ " 

"Adventure!" I exclaim, beaming excitedly. 

The sea drayk cries out in alarm, and the two of us turn to look in unison at the sight of a sailing ship approaching us from the side of the island. 

"What kind of ship is _that?_ " Sirius wonders. "I've never seen anything like that before." 

"Not something the Shapers use?" I say, frowning. 

There's a nasty, spear-like weapon on the prow of the ship. It fires a long, razor-sharp bolt at us, striking the sea drayk in the neck. The drayk roars in pain and anger, and spits a burst of flames at the ship, lighting the sails on fire. 

Our dying drayk is slipping beneath the waves. "I can't swim!" I say, panicking, thrashing about in the water frantically. 

Sirius shifts into dog form. He grabs my collar in his teeth and starts paddling toward the shore. I'm dead weight and I know it, though, and he's struggling with getting me there. Then, with the last of its strength, the sea drayk's head lifts us out of the water and carries us the rest of the way. It deposits us on a crumbling old, wooden dock, before slipping away beneath the waves one last time. 

Panting and soaked to the bone, I look over at where the ship that attacked us was. It's having great difficulty itself, burning heavily. I turn toward where Sirius is laying. He's returned to human form and is laying on the dock, exhausted. 

"Sirius..." I murmur. "Sirius, are you alright?" 

Sirius pants a little himself, almost like a dog, and says, "I was going to ask you that. You're the one who can't swim." 

"I'm fine," I say. "Doing better than the ones who attacked us, at any rate." I point over at the burning ship. 

"Heh, serves them right," Sirius says. He pulls out his wand and casts a couple quick Drying Charms over us. 

"Why do you suppose they attacked us?" I ask. 

"No clue," Sirius says. "Maybe this island is theirs? Looks like the buildings are definitely Shaper construction, though. And I've been all over the lands known to the Shapers, and I've never seen any ship like that before. Still, that's not a very friendly welcoming committee." 

"Maybe the island got Barred because some antisocial people drove them off," I suggest. 

"Well, there doesn't appear to be anything immediately wanting to try and devour us on the beach," Sirius says. "And hey, this is great! If the Shaper who wants this crap complains that it's late, I don't even have to lie about being shipwrecked! Brilliant!" 

We head down the beach away from the docks. Both of us are tired from the exertion of the swim here, and I'm more cautious than usual in the unfamiliar place. A short way away, there's a tunnel built into the side of the hill, marked with an odd symbol that looks kind of like a wheel with three wide spokes. 

Sirius spots me examining the marking, and says, "That's the Shaper symbol. You see it all over the place, where they've been. They really like to make sure it's perfectly clear who you're dealing with. As if you could forget." 

"I forgot to ask before, but who exactly _are_ the Shapers?" 

"Oh," Sirius says. "Sorry. They're a group of mages who have the ability to create life. They make all sorts of different creatures to serve them. It's brilliant magic, and a carefully guarded secret. Anyone who tries to learn it without their express permission tends to face a swift death. And they rule much of the world." 

We head inside the building, such as it is, and take a look around. It seems to be an old storehouse. "This place looks like it's been abandoned for ages," I say. "There's probably not much left here." 

"Might still be something," Sirius says. 

There's remnants of clothing scattered about the room, broken pots and bowls, long-forgotten silverware strewn about the floor. One cabinet reveals a stack of javelins. We ignore them and move on to the next side room. The stone door retracts into the floor as we approach. 

This room is full of several cylindrical canisters, each about a foot tall. Most of them are broken, leaving shards of crystalline glass about. One of them, however, is still intact. It's filled with a glowing cyan substance, swirling about on its own. 

"Looks like some kind of potion or something," I say. "Have you seen something like this before?" 

Sirius shakes his head. "Shaper potions are usually stored in small gourds called pods, not canisters like this. But maybe things were different back before this island was abandoned." 

I approach the canister curiously and reach out toward it. There's a bit of fragile glass on top of it, looking to be intended to be broken by the hand to activate it and allow the substance to come up through the arm. 

Sirius puts a hand on my shoulder to stop me. "What are you doing?" 

"I want to see what it does," I say. More than mere curiosity, I feel almost compulsively drawn to the canister. 

"Experimenting with unknown magical substances by using them at random doesn't really strike me as the best idea," Sirius says with a smirk. 

"Meh, it's probably just a healing potion or something, anyway," I say. "Who would leave dangerous magical substances sitting in a storehouse by the docks?" 

"They might have been making poison on the island and shipping it out," Sirius points out. 

"Bah, the worst thing that could happen is I die," I say. "And if I do, well, you can avoid any of these canisters in the future." 

"Lexen..." Sirius says, smirking. 

I giggle, and rush up toward the canister before he can stop me again. I slap my hand on the top of it. The glowing substance inside oozes out and sinks into my hand. It's a very strange sensation, and I can feel myself tingling almost like it's _changing_ me in some way. Yet, strange as it is, it's a very _good_ feeling, a powerful rush that leaves me staggering for a moment. 

"Lexen?" Sirius says. "Lexen, are you alright?" 

I give a nod. "Yeah, I'm good." 

"What did it do?" Sirius asks. 

"I'm... not quite sure yet," I admit. 

Sirius rolls his eyes, and says, "Well, at least we know they won't kill us." 

"What can I say? I'm a reckless idiot with no sense of self-preservation." 

"That much is obvious," Sirius says. "Come on, let's see what else is in here." 

In an office in the back of the storehouse, we find a handful of coins on a table, and a cabinet containing an old brass key. Sirius takes the key and pockets it, and we leave the storehouse. 

As we head inland down the road, I stumble a little. I still feel a bit woozy. It's not from hunger or exhaustion, however, but I think because of the substance in the canister. 

"Lexen?" Sirius says, putting out a hand to steady me. 

"I think that canister changed me somehow," I say quietly. 

Something certainly feels different. I raise my left hand experimentally and focus. Small flames dance from my fingertips. Magic has never been so easy. Not even my inborn Time and Lightning powers, aside from using them unconsciously. 

"Huh?" Sirius says, peering at my hand. 

"Merlin's beard," I mutter. "I have no idea how it did it, but that canister let me use Fire Magic!" I experimentally fling a bolt of flame at the nearest wall, giggling as it leaves a small scorch mark. 

Sirius's eyes widen. "That's new to me, too. Shapers can change things, but using their powers on human beings is strictly forbidden." 

"It's _wonderful!_ " I exclaim. "We must find more of these canisters! And I must learn how they made them..." 

Further on, we come upon a gatehouse containing a few old pieces of pretty mundane equipment, which we also ignore. There is a lever held in place by chains. Sirius brings out the key we found, unlocks them, and pulls the lever. There's a sliding sound from outside as the way forward opens up. 

Past the gate, we find a small barracks. The beds have long since fallen into ruin, but there's still some surviving weapons and armor. 

"They left a lot of stuff behind," I say. "They must have left in a hurry when they abandoned this place." 

"All the more reason to think there might be something dangerous lying in wait here," Sirius says. "It's good to know that the Shapers can tuck their tail between their legs and run away whimpering, though." 

We continue down the road, and come upon what appears to be an inn next. There are long tables with chairs alongside them, and a crumbling pit in the center of the room looks to have been used for roasting. 

"Enough people came through this place to require an inn once?" I say. 

"That suggests that this wasn't just some small, isolated colony, but a major operation of some sort," Sirius muses. "Why else would they need all of this stuff?" 

In the back of the inn, we find a cabinet with a handful of small, oddly-shaped gourds. I open up one of them and peer at the liquid inside. "What is this?" 

"Pods, they're called. The Shaper equivalent of potions," Sirius says, sniffing at another gourd. "They look like they're still good. These pinkish-beige ones are used for healing potions. Color coded for your convenience, and all that." 

Sirius puts one into his pocket, and I stuff the rest away into the bag of holding. We exit the inn. 

Outside of the inn, we come upon a field with a number of creatures milling about. I tense myself for an attack, but they seem pretty docile. They're pink colored, and look sort of like a cross between pigs and cows. The most fearsome thing about them is their large tusks, but they don't seem inclined to care about us. 

"Ornks," Sirius explains, seeing me staring at them. "Shaper livestock. Also, quite tasty." 

"Well, at least we won't starve, failing all else," I comment. 

We continue down the road to explore more of the dock facilities. Although we're a little tired, this leisurely exploration is hardly being taxing. I'm eager to see more of this island and uncover its secrets. Maybe even find some more canisters. 

Next, we come upon a large, domed building, and go inside to look around. As we step inside, crystals along the walls flare to life, filling the previously darkened room with yellow light. There are two alcoves off to the sides, each containing a pool of swirling liquid. One is green, and the other is blue. I step up close to the green pool, and feel revitalized just by standing near it. 

"What are these things?" I wonder, poking the surface of the green pool with a finger. The pool doesn't react. 

"Oh, I've seen these," Sirius says. "Shapers love them. The green ones heal wounds, and the blue ones restore magical energy. They stick them in every base of theirs. Well, not that I was technically _supposed_ to be inside some of those places, but you get the idea." 

"Huh," I say. "If I had a base of operations, I'd definitely put something like these in here, too. This would definitely be a good place to come back to if we ever need it, though." I spot something glowing cyan in the back of the room, and say gleefully, "Look! More canisters!" I glance to Sirius and say hesitantly. "Do you want one of these?" 

"Nah," Sirius says. "I'll pass on these mysterious canisters, I think. You can have them all. One of us has to stay clean and watch for unfortunate side-effects, after all." 

"You're still thinking like this is some sort of addictive drug," I say. I rush up to one of them and put my hand on top, and let out a shudder of pleasure as the liquid surges in and alters me. 

"You're not really doing anything to discourage that thought, though," Sirius points out. 

I go over to use the second canister. Maybe I should be more concerned about it, but I can't imagine how anything bad could come of this. All they're doing is granting me new power and abilities. Who would complain about that? 

"So, what did they do this time?" Sirius asks. 

"Healing, I think, for one of them," I say. "And the other... I seem to know how to make some sort of creature?" I frown thoughtfully. 

"They gave you innate _Shaping_ abilities?" Sirius asks. "How would that even work?" 

I concentrate on the magical essence within my body, bringing it forth to Shape a creature according to the blueprint etched into my mind. A small bipedal lizard with reddish-orange scales, standing about waist high. It's easy, instinctive, like breathing. Once the process is complete, the reptile lets out a soft hiss, and looks around curiously. 

"Very well, apparently," Sirius says, eyes widening. 

"So, um," I say. "What _is_ this critter, anyway?" 

"You just made it, and you don't know what it is?" Sirius says, smirking. "It's called a fyora. They're very common all over Shaper lands." 

"I think I'll call him Sparky," I say. 

"Sparky?" Sirius says. 

"Sure, why not?" I say. 

"Because it's a terrible name?" Sirius says. 

"What would _you_ suggest?" I ask. 

"Don't look at me," Sirius says. "That's _your_ pet, and if you want to inflict a horrible name on him, that's your business." He pauses, and adds, "At least it wasn't Flamer." 

I snicker softly. "Why don't we set up the tent outside of the Shaping hall?" I say. "It'll be good to rest close to the pools, just in case. We can explore more of the island tomorrow." 

"Good idea," Sirius says. "And if your new pet burns down the tent, I'm going to see what fyora steak tastes like."


	5. Passing Through Quarantine

I wake to the smell of smoke. "Sirius!" I scream. I leap out of bed in alarm, grabbing my bag of holding and running out of the room without wasting time getting dressed. "Sparky, did you set the tent on fire?" I scold the little fyora. 

Sparky whimpers and shies away. 

Sirius rushes out of his bedroom in his pajamas, and looks to the burning tent wall. " _Aguamenti!_ " he casts, and a gush of water bursts from his wand. " _Bad_ fyora, _bad!_ " 

Sparky lets out a soft meep and hides his head. 

There's sounds from outside. And the walls catch on fire again without Sparky seeming to have done anything. "I don't think it was Sparky." I hurry outside. 

Around the tent, there are half a dozen other fyoras, chewing at the fabric and spitting globs of fire at it. When I emerge into the night air, they look at me hungrily, as if I'd make an excellent meal. There's nothing cute or friendly about _these_ lizards. 

Sirius and my own fyora come out and start to fight off the vicious little reptiles. "I've never seen fyoras behave like this before!" Sirius says. "They're usually docile and obedient. These ones have gone completely rogue!" 

"They're burning down my tent!" I exclaim. " _Fulgoris!_ " I cast, pointing my wand at them and shooting lightning. Shooting fire at the fiery red lizards doesn't seem like a productive idea. " _Fulgoris! Avada Kedavra!_ " 

Two fyoras are electrocuted, and one drops dead in a green flash. Sirius and Sparky have finished off the rest. Sirius douses the tent in another stream of water, but it seems pretty badly damaged. 

"Lexen," Sirius says in a disapproving tone. "Unforgivables? Really?" 

"They ruined my tent!" I exclaim. "My beautiful, beautiful tent!" 

"You're throwing around Unforgivables over a _tent_?" Sirius says. "Admittedly, it was a rather nice tent, and it doesn't look like it's salvageable now, unfortunately." 

"Would you rather I not use them?" I ask, looking at him seriously. 

"I'd rather you not be using dark magic at all, honestly," Sirius says. "The Dark Arts are a nasty business to get involved in, and I find it a little disturbing that you can even cast the Killing Curse so readily." 

"Alright," I say sheepishly. "For your sake, I'll try to avoid it unless all other options have been exhausted." 

Sirius gives me a small smile. "Thanks, Lexen. You're not a bad person, and I'd hate to see you going down a dark path you might end up regretting -- or worse, not regretting." 

"I think you might have a point about that," I say grimly, remembering how shamelessly I'd embraced being a dark wizard before. I sigh, looking down at the smoldering cloth that was once a lovely four-bedroom tent. "So what are we going to do about the tent?" 

Sirius pokes at the cloth a bit and shakes his head. "No use for it. The enchantments have been too badly disrupted by the physical damage." 

"I don't think I care to sleep on the ground," I comment. 

Sirius chuckles. "Well, if there's abandoned buildings like this all over this island, no worry about that. I can always just transfigure something into a bed." 

"I'm really glad to have you around," I say, chuckling. "Can you make sure the bag of holding is fireproof, at least?" I pass it over to him. 

He waves his wand over it and hands it back. "You're just using me for my magic!" he says jokingly. 

We head inside the Shaping hall. Sirius waves his wand over a couple of tables, transfiguring them into beds. 

"I'm really uneasy about sleeping in here, though," I say. 

"Why's that?" Sirius asks. 

"Well, for starters, it _doesn't even have a door_ ," I point out. 

Sirius smirks. "I'll cast a ward over the entrance so you don't have to worry about any fyoras wandering in and chewing your toes off. Except for the one who is already in here, of course." 

Sparky meeps and looks up at Sirius pathetically. 

I pat him on the head and go back to sleep. 

* * *

I wake some hours later in the morning. Sirius is still asleep, so I get up and get dressed. I peer over toward the middle of the room. Before going to bed, Sirius appears to have hauled the fyora corpses inside and butchered them for meat. The meat has been nicely roasted up by a small fire. Sparky is eyeing the fyora meat plaintively. I'm not quite sure whether it's because he's disturbed by seeing this happen to his own kind, or because he's hungry and Sirius put a spell on the food to keep him away. 

Curiously, I go over and grab a bit of fyora meat, and nibble on it. It's rather tough, and not exactly the tastiest thing I've ever eaten, but edible in a pinch. I suppose Sirius is really just covering all our bases in case we're stranded here for a while, since all of the foodstuffs we've come across have long since rotted away. 

I spot the Marauder's Map lying on a nearby table, and go to take a look at it. I guess he couldn't get back to sleep for a while, pickpocketed me back, and worked on it for a while. Sucia Island has been detailed a bit with the places we've explored so far. I have to laugh a little when I see that Sparky has a dot on the map. 

Sirius stirs, yawns and stretches. 

"Sorry, did I wake you up?" I ask. 

"Nah," Sirius says. "I was just being lazy." 

"You seem to have been busy last night," I say. "Did you actually get much sleep?" 

Sirius shrugs and goes to get dressed. "Could you gather up the meat?" 

I shove the fyora meat into the bag, and once he's done dressing, I pass the map over to him. We eat a quick breakfast, and outside again. 

It's a quiet, peaceful morning, and one would be surprised to think that we'd just been viciously assaulted by overly aggressive lizards in the middle of the night. We pack up, and head off down the road. As we're walking, Sirius is poking at the map with his wand, making some more adjustments to it as we go. 

"The map is fireproof too, right?" I ask. 

"Of course," Sirius replies. 

"Just checking," I say. 

After a short walk, we come to a point where the road has been overgrown by trees and shrubs. We backtrack a little and make our way around. We pass by a series of ruined buildings which aren't in nearly as good of shape as the previous ones. They're falling apart, many of them missing a wall or two, and are being reclaimed by nature bit by bit. 

The road ends at a large building with two robed statues flanking the doorway. An obelisk outside the door reads, "Quarantine Hall. All arrivals and departures must meet with the servant mind before proceeding." 

"I wonder if the servant mind would even still be _alive_ after all this time," Sirius muses. 

"What's a servant mind?" I ask. 

"It's a creation the Shapers use to remember information," Sirius replies. "All they do is think." 

We head inside the building and look around. I wonder what sort of magic they use for these automatic sliding doors? When they actually bother to put doors on their buildings, anyway. Inside, there's a book sitting on a nearby pedestal that appears to have been used for sign-ins. However, the crumbling pages are now illegible. 

In the back of the quarantine hall, there's what could only be the servant mind. It looks like a strange, pig-like creature with an enormous skull, sitting in a stone crib. With its tiny, vestigial limbs, it doesn't look like it could ever move, and it was probably designed that way. The creature begins to stir and rouse itself from hibernation as we approach. 

"Welcome, Shaper. I am Mind Tavit," the servant mind says, as if reciting from a centuries-old script. "Do you wish to pass through quarantine?" 

"It must think you're a Shaper," Sirius murmurs to me. "We can use this to our advantage!" 

"Are you alright, Tavit?" I ask. "You must have been here alone for a long time." 

"I am functioning properly," Tavit replies. "I can still do what I was created to do." 

"You don't mind waiting all this time?" I ask. 

"I... am functioning properly," Tavit repeats. "I can still do what I was created to do. I was not made to have other thoughts." 

My fists clench as anger boils up inside of me. Why would the Shapers create something like this? I have to wonder if these servant minds are even fully sentient. Still, it seems like an abuse of whatever intelligence they have to use them like this, and then abandon them. No, perhaps I should be more reasonable. The Shapers left in a hurry, and could not take everything with them. I doubt they would have intended to take along a servant mind at all, though. It would be cumbersome to haul out, and they could always just make another, right? 

I take a deep breath and calm down. I'll save my anger for now. "Do you know what happened here?" I ask. "Do you know why this island was declared Barred?" 

"No, Shaper," Tavit says. "I apologize. My knowledge is limited. When I was left here, I was not given further instructions or information." 

"How long ago was that?" I ask. 

"I do not know," Tavit says. "I have been hibernating all that time. The decay in my internal organs suggests that the time has been well over a century. I apologize that I cannot be more precise." 

Alright, _that_ makes me angry again. I'm convinced that this creation must be sentient now, but it makes my blood boil that it blithely gauges its own decaying body as a timepiece without a thought for concern toward its own well being. 

"You said you were alright, Tavit," I say. 

"I am functioning properly," Tavit replies again. "I can still do what I was created to do." 

"Is there anything I can do for you?" I ask. 

"I am functioning properly--" 

"Stop saying that," I snap. I call forth the new healing powers that the canisters have given me. It's not much, but maybe I'll be able to help the creature a little. I pour as much power as I can into the magic and direct it toward healing the servant mind. 

"I apologize, Shaper, but the decay in my body is too extensive for a simple healing spell to suffice," Tavit says. "If you believe that I am malfunctioning, please put in a report to maintainance." 

I sigh and slump over. Sirius puts a hand on my shoulder, and says, "Relax, Lexen. There's nothing you can do right now. Although I don't see why you're so concerned. Shaper creations are made to serve, and are happy doing their jobs. They're like house-elves that way." 

I yank myself away and look up at Sirius sharply, glaring at him hard. I glance toward the servant mind, and grab Sirius by the arm, dragging him into the next room. "Don't say things like that," I growl. 

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" Sirius says, looking puzzled. 

I remind myself that he's a pureblood wizard, and that's the environment he grew up in. The way of the Shapers must not have looked any different to him. "Alright, Sirius, tell you what," I say. "Let's compromise. You want me to avoid dark magic? I want _you_ to support my goal of freedom for all beings." 

Sirius stares at me. "You don't think small, do you." 

"No one deserves to be a prisoner or a slave," I say. 

"You have a point, I suppose," Sirius says. "Alright, fine. It'll be fun butting heads with the Shapers and causing problems for them. The Shapers are full of themselves and could stand to be knocked off their pedestal." 

I relax a little, and smile at him. "Thanks, Sirius." 

We return to the servant mind, who says, "I am eager to assist you further, Shaper. Do you wish to pass through quarantine?" 

"Tavit, do you know what the Shapers did on this island?" I ask. 

"Research," Tavit replies. Perhaps not the most verbose reply I could have hoped for. 

"Has anyone else been through here recently?" I ask. 

"You are the first I have seen since I was abandoned," Tavit says. 

"What about that ship that attacked us?" I ask. "Do you know anything about that?" 

"It alarms me to think that someone would dare to attack a Shaper," Tavit says. "But I'm afraid I know nothing of what you speak. I apologize." 

I say aside to Sirius, "Whoever they were, they must have landed somewhere else, and didn't pass through _here_." 

"There is another dock on the east side of the island," Tavit says. "Perhaps they came through there instead." 

"Thanks for the information, Tavit," I say. "What do we need to do to pass through the quarantine?" 

"Allow me to inspect you to ensure that there are no infections or rogue creations," Tavit replies. 

I frown a little. "I think it's a bit late to try to keep out rogue creations. We were attacked by fyoras on the way here." 

"Truly?" Tavit says. "That is a distressing state of affairs. But I must still perform my duty." 

"Alright," I say. "Go ahead and inspect us, then." It's not like we couldn't just go around the building, failing all else. 

The servant mind emits a faint humming noise and looks at us intently. After a few moments, it says, "I see no reason to impede your progress. I have unsealed the door for you." 

"Alright," I say. "Thanks, Tavit. I'm afraid we're going to have to leave you now." 

"I will conserve my energy and return to hibernation," Tavit says. 

We head out of the alcove and into the main quarantine hall again. I say, "I don't know that I'm comfortable pretending to be a Shaper. I built my last life on a lie, and I don't think I really want to do it again." 

"Who's going to know the difference?" Sirius says. "Anyone that might realize otherwise is a long, long way away from this island. Besides, you technically _are_ a Shaper, in a way, whether the Shaper Council knows that or not. And if they found out, they'd kill you, but hey." 

"Consider that we may have been attacked _because_ someone mistook us for Shapers," I say. "I think it might be best to be honest about _not_ being Shapers." 

"You might have a point there," Sirius says. "But we could always just explain the truth to anyone that would be hostile toward Shapers." 

"True," I say. "I suppose it can't hurt to let people make assumptions if they benefit us. So are we both Shapers, or what are you?" 

"I'll be your assistant, a loyal outsider mage," Sirius says. "Oh, here, let me do something about your robes." Sirius pulls out his wand and does a bit of transfiguration on my robes, changing their design a little. "Voila, instant Shaper robes." 

We head for the door. Out in the meadow beyond the quarantine hall, there's another herd of ornks. These, however, are being tended to by a robed person, about four and a half feet tall, with a long nose like an anteater's snout visible from underneath his hood. 

"A servile?" Sirius says quietly. "This place must not be all _that_ dangerous, if there's still serviles here." 

"What's a servile?" I murmur, but the servile has already spotted us and approaches. 

"He's probably looking for orders," Sirius says softly. 

We're clearly the last thing this creature expected to see. "A Shaper?" he says after a long moment. "I don't think that my eyes are deceiving me. A Shaper has come, after all this time! How marvelous!" 

"Who are you?" I ask. 

"Ah, I've forgotten my manners. I am Timo. I am but a simple shepherd." 

"I'm Lexen, and this is Sirius," I reply. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Timo. Are there many serviles on this island?" 

"Oh, yes," Timo replies. He points off down the road. "To the east lies the humble village of Vakkiri. Many of my people live there. I must go and tell them all that a Shaper has finally come!" 

"There aren't any other Shapers here, are there?" I wonder. If there are, for whatever reason, they could blow my cover in an instant. And, as Sirius said, probably try to kill me for violating their secrets. 

Timo looks nervous for a moment. "Oh, no, no. No other Shapers. You are the only one. But now that you're back, we can... we can serve." 

I might not object to pretending to be a Shaper, but I'm _not_ going to change the way I act because of it. "Relax, Timo," I say reassuringly. "I'm not looking for loyalty and obedience. I have no interest in interfering with the lives of your people." 

Timo gives me a strange, surprised look, but also seems very relieved. "Truly?" Timo says. "Thank you for your consideration, Shaper. Regardless, we serviles will be happy to assist you in any way we can." 

"I don't suppose you happen to know why this island was abandoned, do you?" I ask. 

"I'm afraid not," Timo replies. "You should go to Vakkiri. There are many wise and knowledgeable people there that could perhaps help to answer your questions." 

"Thanks, Timo," I say. "We'll do that." 

We head along down the road. Not that it's much of a road, being overgrown in many places, but there's still enough impressions of traffic and exposed stone that it can be picked out of the surrounding woods. 

"So, what's a servile?" I ask once the creature is out of earshot. 

"They're creations that do menial tasks for the Shapers," Sirius says. "Like house-elves, but they don't have any magic. Cleaning, copying records, farming. Tedious tasks that the Shapers can't be bothered to do themselves." 

"And they seemed pretty intelligent," I say, frowning. An entire race of slaves. I wonder how many serviles there might be on Sucia Island. 

"They're also weak and easily frightened," Sirius says. "If there were any real threat here, they'd have been wiped out a long time ago." 

"I see," I say, frowning. "Did you see the way Timo acted back there? He might have paid lip service to the idea of obedience, but he looked _relieved_ when I said that I wasn't looking for it." 

"I saw," Sirius says, nodding. "I wouldn't have expected it, seeing the way serviles act in Shaper lands, but these ones have been out of Shaper control for a long time. They must be starting to like the taste of freedom." 

"And we're not going to be doing anything to seek to take that away from them," I say. 

"Right," Sirius agrees. 

"Let's see if we can find this village of theirs," I say. 

"A servile village," Sirius says. "This I've got to see."


	6. Servants Not Serving

It takes us the better part of the day to reach the next cluster of buildings. This place is swarming with serviles, and a sign at the edge of the village proclaims it as Vakkiri. 

These serviles have moved into the Shaper ruins and made them their own. The place looks like I would expect from any settlement of intelligent beings. There are shops and farms, and guards armed with long daggers keep watch for trouble. They've done quite well for themselves, under the circumstances, especially considering how confused they must have been at first to have been abandoned here by the Shapers. 

When the serviles notice us, they don't seem to be certain how to react. Some of them seem to be outright overjoyed, while others are clearly terrified and scurry off to hide. Mostly, however, they seem to be curious, as if wondering what I'm going to do. 

I approach one of the guards, and ask, "Excuse me. Who is in charge here?" 

The guard hesitates to reply for a moment, as if looking nervous as to how I might respond. 

I snort softly. "That wasn't meant to be a trick question. Let me rephrase. Which if you serviles is the leader around here?" 

The guard relaxes. "That would be Leader Khobar. You can find him in the feasting hall in the center of the village." He points off to a large building on the opposite side of a plot of farmland. 

"Thanks," I say, and head off in that direction. I glance aside at Sirius, and have to smirk as I see him working on the map even as we go. At least this village should be safe enough. 

We head into the building and look around. It's a large building with several wide rooms. The first room we come to contains a number of sleeping pallets laid out over the floor. There's a servile here tending to the place. 

"Greetings," I say cordially. "My name is Lexen." 

"I bid you welcome, Shaper," says the servile. It's hard to tell under the robes, but this one sounds like a female. "I am Sencia, of the Awakened." 

"Do all of you serviles live here?" I say, gesturing about at the pallets. 

"We all live in these abandoned buildings," Sencia replies. "Most of us live in these barracks, although some live in private homes. I prefer to be among my fellow serviles, myself." 

"You said you were of the Awakened," I say. "What's that?" 

"We're a sect of serviles, led by the wise Ellhrah," Sencia says. "We believe that we should stand up for ourselves, and look to you Shapers as equals. If you want to learn more, you should go and speak with Ellhrah." 

I can't help but give a broad grin at that. "That's an attitude that it pleases me to no end to hear." 

"It must be very easy to be equals with those who are not present," Sirius says. 

"More difficult than you would think, perhaps," Sencia says to him. "They often slip back into their old, Shaper-worshipping ways." She looks back to me. "I am surprised you are so pleased, Shaper. I did not expect that most Shapers would approve of our beliefs." 

"They wouldn't," Sirius puts in. 

"Tell me about this Ellhrah," I say. 

"He is the founder of the Awakened," Sencia says. "He was the first to say that we should stand up for ourselves, and that by abandoning us, you Shapers made us free. If you wish to speak with him, you can find him in the fortress to the east of here, past Watchhill." 

"I might pay him a visit," I say. "So what do you do in the village, Sencia?" 

"I look after the serviles and offer them guidance," Sencia says. "There are difficulties from time to time, however. For instance, I suspect that there might be a Taker spy in the village at the moment, but I cannot prove it." 

"What's a Taker?" I ask. 

"The Takers are a dangerous servile sect, located on the east side of the island," Sencia says. "They would seek to start a violent rebellion against the Shapers. They want nothing more than a pointless, bloody war that would cost us all dearly." 

"They hate the Shapers that badly?" I say. Not that I could blame them. And all things considered, I have to wonder that an open rebellion might not be more effective than the peace and equality that the Awakened preach. A peaceful solution might be possible, but it would take a very long time before anything really changed. 

"They blame the Shapers for everything bad that has happened to them," Sencia says. "If you were to happen to come across this spy, the Awakened would be grateful to you if you could tell me who it is." 

"I'll keep an eye out, but no promises," I say. I might just want to talk to this Taker instead and find out what _their_ point of view is. 

"So, Sencia," Sirius puts in. "Where did you serviles learn to talk like that? The ones I saw on the mainland all spoke in simple, broken sentences." 

Sencia looks a little offended at his question. "When the Shapers left us, we knew how they spoke, and decided to speak like that ourselves." 

Sirius raises an eyebrow. "So it was all really an act put on for the benefit of the Shapers? Hah, you serviles are smarter than I gave you credit for. No offense." 

"None taken," Sencia says graciously. 

We move on into the next room, which appears to be a large dining hall with a kitchen area off in the corner. There's one servile working in the kitchen, and another one sitting toward the middle of the room. He's dressed just like the rest of them, but he holds himself with an air of authority. I suspect that this is the leader that the guard spoke of. 

"Welcome to Vakkiri, Shaper. I am Leader Khobar." He puts a pointed emphasis on the word 'leader'. 

"My name is Lexen," I reply. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Leader Khobar." 

"I am pleased to have Shapers among us again after all this time," Khobar says, sounding not particularly pleased. 

"You don't need to lie to me, Leader Khobar," I say. "I mean you no harm, nor do I intend to force your people into slavery again." 

"So you say," Khobar says. "While it relieves me to hear you say such a thing, I will reserve my judgment and wait to see what you actually do." 

"That is wise of you," I say. "A person's face and words can lie, but their deeds will speak truly of their character and intentions." 

Khobar gives a terse nod. "Might I ask what brings a Shaper to this island after so long?" 

"I was stranded here because a large ship attacked my sea drayk," I say. "It did not appear to be of any design the Shapers have ever used. Do you know anything about these strange outsiders on this island?" 

Khobar shakes his head. "I have nothing I can tell you, Shaper. I do not know who would be so foolish as to openly attack a Shaper in such a way. I doubt that even the mad serviles of Kazg would do such a thing." 

"My name is Lexen," I say firmly. 

"So you have said," Khobar says. 

"So please stop addressing me as 'Shaper', Khobar," I say. "I do have a name." 

Khobar looks at me strangely for a long moment, before finally saying, "Very well. Lexen it is, then." 

I nod approvingly. "Could you tell me what you know about this island? What other villages are there?" 

"We serviles have formed three settlements, that I know of at least," Khobar says. "This is Vakkiri, home to the Awakened. To the northeast, you will find Pentil, where the Obeyers dwell. And far to the east lies Kazg, the headquarters of the insane Takers." 

"I'm guessing by the name that these 'Obeyers' still want to obey the Shapers," Sirius comments dryly. 

"In the absence of the Shapers, they have taken to worshipping them like gods," Khobar says distastefully. 

"Figures," Sirius says. 

"Do you know why this island was abandoned?" I ask. 

"I deal with matters of the present and future," Khobar says. "I leave worrying about the past to others. You should speak to Learned Pinner. You can find her in a building surrounded by trees in the northwest corner of the village." 

"Very well," I say. "Thank you for your assistance. I'll be going now." 

There's another dining area adjoined to the one with the kitchen, and a muscular servile with a sword is there arguing with younger one. 

"I don't see why I can't fight," says the young servile. "I can hold a dagger just as well as anyone!" 

"You're far too young, Rispy," says the adult servile. "Maybe in a few years--" 

"But I want to fight _now!_ " Rispy exclaims. "I want to travel around the island and go on adventures and do stuff!" 

"That's not what a guard does, Rispy..." 

A smile comes to my face unbidden. In Wizarding Earth, I'd run across a militant elf by the name of Rispy, who sought adventure and supported the freedom of his people. The servile before me very much reminds me of a younger version of him. I had heard of alternate versions of people, parallels in different universes, but I had not anticipated meeting one. 

"Pardon me," I say. "How old are you, Rispy?" 

"I'm fourteen!" Rispy says. "I'm old enough!" 

"Huh," Sirius grunts softly. "The Shapers usually put them to work at the age of ten." 

"Is there something you need, Shaper?" the adult servile asks. 

"Who might you be?" I ask. 

"I am Brodus Blade." It takes me a moment longer to realize that this servile is _female_. "I work to defend Vakkiri from _all_ threats." She looks at me pointedly when she says this. 

"Well, I don't intend to be a threat," I say. "But you don't know that yet, so you have every right to be cautious about me." 

Rispy looks at me, not the least bit awed or afraid of me. "Right! And if you did anything bad, I'd stab you in the eye!" 

"Yes, I'm sure you would," I say with a grin. "So, you're looking for adventure, are you, Rispy? Do you know much about this island? We're going to be traveling a lot, and it would be nice to have someone along who knows the place better than we do." 

"You can't be serious," Brodus says. "He's just a child--" 

"I've been to Pentil lots of times!" Rispy says. "I've been as far east as the bridges! And I've snuck around the clawbugs in the wastes!" 

"You could have gotten yourself killed doing that, Rispy," Brodus chides him. 

"But I didn't," Rispy says. "I'm sneaky. And I can fight! I killed a fyora all by myself just last week!" 

"Well, he's certainly enthusiastic," Sirius says. 

"Can I go with the Shaper?" Rispy asks Brodus. "Please?" 

"You really shouldn't..." Brodus says. 

He's no younger than me and my friends were, in my last life. But he's more idealistic still. He hasn't experienced the betrayal of someone thought to be a trusted friend and ally. He hasn't had to kill his own kind in order to protect himself and those he cares about. He hasn't committed murder. 

"He is a free being," I say. "If he chooses to accompany me as one of my companions, you cannot forbid him to do so." 

Rispy practically bounces at my words. "See? The Shaper's an Awakened too!" 

Brodus sighs in resignation. "I see that I cannot win this argument. But I warn you, Shaper, that if any harm comes to Rispy, I will hold you personally responsible." 

"I can't promise to keep him out of harm's way, if he wishes to fight," I say. "But I will do my best to protect him and keep him safe and healthy with my magic, equipment, and wits." 

"I get to go on an adventure!" Rispy says, running around in circles. 

It's such a sharp contrast between my friends before that it's almost painful to see. For all that we were in what was supposed to be a safe environment, we were like hardened war veterans by that age. Rispy here, for all that he's grown up on a supposedly dangerous island, is still a child, bright-eyed and unscarred by the horrors of war. 

And here I am, about to drag him away from his safe home into an unknown environment that likely _will_ be very dangerous, and likely force him to face those very sorts of horrors. I hesitate for a moment, about to change my mind and tell him that he can't come after all, but I stop myself. No, this is his choice. Even if I refuse, he might just follow along after us anyway. He has to grow up sometime, I suppose. I just hope he doesn't wind up a broken wreck in the process. 

"Rispy, we'll be leaving the village in the morning," I say. "Make whatever preparations you need to before then, and meet us back here then, alright?" 

"Alright," Rispy says. 

We leave the building and make our way in the general direction of the building where Learned Pinner was supposed to be. Along the way, Sirius says, "Are you sure you want that servile kid along?" 

"I knew him in another life," I say. "Or at least, a different version of him. There was an elf by that name in your world, who acted a lot like that, except he was older and more bitter by the point I came across him." 

"Well, if you say so," Sirius says, shrugging. "I suppose it couldn't hurt to have a servile along if we're going to be dealing with a lot of them." 

The next building we run across appears to be a shop. Different colored pods and other miscellaneous equipment are laid out on display. 

The servile shopkeeper bows to us, and says, "Welcome, Shaper. I am Ham. Are you interested in my potions?" 

"Ham?" Sirius says. "Yum." 

"Sirius..." I say. Ham ignores him. "You make potions, Ham?" 

"It is one of the things that we serviles learned to help us survive after we were left on this island," Ham says. "Your kind left many things behind that we find and make use of as we can." 

"You seem to have done very well with that," I say. "What sort of things have you found?" 

"Well, I found this in some ruins recently," Ham says, gesturing off to a rectangular metal box. "But I couldn't get it open. If you could do so, I would make it worth your effort. We Awakened believe in fair trade." 

I point my wand at the box and say, " _Alohomora_." The container opens with a clicking sound. 

Ham takes a look inside and smiles. "Thank you, Shaper!" He hands me a couple of his pods. "Have a couple pods for your trouble. Also, if you should happen to come across anything you want to sell, I'd be happy to take it off your hands for some coin." 

"Anything, like what?" I ask. 

"Whatever intact equipment or supplies you might find in your adventures," Ham says. 

"Hmm, there was a fair amount of stuff laying around the ruined docks..." I muse. 

"We are not going back to the ruined docks to scour out every scrap of equipment that might sell for a few coins," Sirius says. "Besides, it wasn't even very good stuff, anyway." 

"Fine, fine," I say. 

We move on, and come upon a large building beyond a stand of trees. It appears to be another Shaping hall. Was this the place Khobar meant? We head inside. There are two telltale alcoves that might have once been essence pools, but they have long since dried up, and one of them has been converted into a firepit. 

There's a very old and withered servile here, who seems to be as old as Dumbledore, from the looks of her. "Welcome, Shaper. I am Learned Pinner." 

"I am Lexen, and this is Sirius," I say. "Please call me Lexen." 

"As you wish, Lexen," Pinner says. "I have studied much and learned much of the history of this island and its people. If you are seeking my wisdom, I will share it with you." 

"Do you know why this island was abandoned?" I ask. "What sort of research they were doing here? 

"I cannot be certain," Pinner says. "Your kind left us behind two hundred years ago, long before even my time. But I have an idea on where to begin to look for answers. To the north of Vakkiri lies an old ruined Shaper school. It is full of rogue creations, however, so be careful if you go there." 

"Pinner, do you know anything about the weird crystal canisters?" Sirius asks. "Full of glowy, swirly stuff?" 

"I know little," Pinner says. "I have some pieces of some in the back room, but I do not know what they are for. I've seen a servile once try to use one of them." She shakes her head sadly. "It was a horrible death, but at least it was quick." 

"Maybe they only work on humans," I say. "I used some of them. They seem to have made me more powerful." 

"We serviles tend to fear and avoid any of your artifacts that we don't know what they do," Pinner says. 

"I don't suppose you happen to have any _intact_ ones around by chance, do you?" I ask. 

"I do not," Pinner says. "Although I believe one of the villagers managed to acquire one. Perhaps they could be convinced to part with it, if you want it." 

We head out of the building over toward the one Pinner directs us to, and head inside. There's a rather obese servile inside, who really fills out those robes. 

"Wow," Sirius whispers in the doorway. "I didn't think serviles could _get_ that fat." 

"Hello," I say. "I'm Lexen. I hear you have gotten your hands on one of those glowing canisters?" 

"I am Dreet," says the servile. "I have. I'd be willing to make a trade for it. Three hundred coins." 

"You want three hundred coins for something that kills your own kind?" Sirius asks. "Awfully convenient for you that a couple of humans happened to come along, isn't it?" 

"Sirius, do we have three hundred coins?" I ask. 

"Yeah, but we're not spending that kind of money just to satisfy your canister addiction," Sirius says with a smirk. 

"But--" 

"No buts," Sirius says. "I'm not going to speak out about you using the things, but if you want it, you're going to have to earn the money yourself." 

I sigh. "Fine, fine. I'll be back later, Dreet." 

"It's not going anywhere," Dreet says, shrugging, having been watching our interplay with amusement. 

We head out of the building, and I start poking around the village, looking into every little building and frightening several serviles. 

"What are you doing, Lexen?" Sirius wonders. 

"Sencia mentioned something about a Taker spy," I say. "I'm looking to see if I can find them." 

"What, so you can turn them in?" Sirius asks. 

"No," I say. "I just want to talk to them. I want to make my own judgments about things." 

"Probably for the best," Sirius says. 

We come across a servile tucked away in a small building that's almost hidden by trees. This one is small and pale, and he seems a little furtive. I have to wonder if he's been hiding here for a short while. 

"Welcome, Shaper. My name is Nabb. I was wondering if you were going to come and see me while you were here." 

"My name is Lexen, and this is Sirius," I say. "I've only been in this village for a day, and I'm already tired of being called 'Shaper' by everyone. I've half a mind to start saying, no, I'm not a Shaper. But then I imagine, if they even believed me, they'd just call me 'outsider' or 'mage' or 'hey you' instead." 

Sirius snorts softly. "I wouldn't complain so much, if I were you." 

"So, Nabb, you were waiting for me?" I say. "Are you a Taker spy? Sencia asked me to look out for one." 

"Lexen, you can't just come out and ask them like that--" Sirius begins. 

"I am," Nabb says. "If you are planning to turn me in, I will be gone from here before they realize it." 

"I'm not," I say. "I wanted to speak with you. I have a feeling that the opinions of the Awakened toward the Takers are a little biased. I wanted to hear what you had to say for yourself." 

"I was hoping that you would not immediately fall in with the lies of the Awakened and the Obeyers," Nabb says. "Do not throw in your lot with them until you have been to Kazg and seen the truth. I have risked much to be here and speak with you so that you might hear what I have to say, even going so far as to act without instructions from my sect." 

"Considering we just arrived in Vakkiri today, I'd be surprised if your sect _had_ instructions for you already," Sirius comments. 

"So you saw an opportunity and jumped at it," I say. "I see nothing wrong with that. So what did you have to say? Did you want to tell me about the Takers?" 

"The Takers, well," Nabb says. "The Awakened are on the right path, but we do not believe that they go far enough. There can be no true hope for freedom of our people until we have broken free of the fist of the Shapers." 

"Because the Shapers have had a lot of fists on this island lately," Sirius says dryly. 

"We have been isolated, but that cannot last forever," Nabb says. "Especially not now that the Shapers have discovered us again. They would seek to destroy us." 

"That they would," Sirius agrees. 

"But _we_ don't," I say. "I believe in freedom for all beings." 

"That's Lexen, worst Shaper ever," Sirius says lightly. 

"So, were you hoping for my help with something?" I ask. 

"The leader of the Awakened is a servile called Ellhrah," Nabb says. "You can find him in a fortress east of here. If you can use your mighty Shaper powers to slay him, the Takers will be very grateful." 

I stare at him. "You're not doing a very good job of convincing me that you're not as insane as the Awakened make you out to be. Why do you want me to kill the leader of the Awakened? Wouldn't striking the Obeyers make more sense?" 

"The Awakened are already amenable toward our ideas," Nabb says. "Without their leader, the Takers could sway many of them to our path." 

"Lexen," Sirius says. "Think about how angry the Awakened would be if a Shaper killed their leader." 

My eyes widen as realization dawns on me. "They would not be quite so eager to seek peace and equality with the Shapers. They would want to fight." 

"The offer will remain open to you," Nabb says. "The Takers have powerful allies. If you do this for us, you will be able to share in the true power that we have uncovered." 

"Was it the Takers' allies who attacked us out at sea, then?" I wonder. 

"I cannot say," Nabb says. "I do not know, and I am forbidden from speaking any further about them, regardless." 

I give a nod. "I won't make any promises, alright? But I will think about it." 

"That is all I can ask of you," Nabb says. 

We leave the building. Sirius says, "You aren't really considering going along with this, are you?" 

"I have no intention of murdering someone without good reason," I say. "Especially not for that sort of manipulative political bullshit. And I'm certainly not tempted by vague promises of power, either. Regardless, the Takers sound like the sect with the most sensible opinions on how to deal with the Shapers." 

"It's very obvious that the Awakened have never met a Shaper before, yeah," Sirius says. "Peace and equality? That'll get them sent to the flogging post, and that's if they're lucky and don't just get _killed_ for it." 

"Still, we need more information," I say. "I don't want to commit to anything without knowing what's really going on." 

"Good plan," Sirius agrees. 

"Let's get some dinner and look for someplace to sleep," I say. "Maybe even someplace with a door this time."


	7. An Adventure Begins

"You know, for pretending to be a Shaper, you're really not doing a very good job of it," Sirius comments. 

"Hey, I said I'd claim to be a Shaper," I say. "I never said I'd _act_ like one. Besides, it seems like the only ones I'm going to annoy by doing it this way will be the Obeyers. And the Obeyers, well, I haven't even met them yet and I already don't like them." 

We go and meet up with Rispy at the dining hall, and grab a bit of breakfast. Rispy has come equipped with a dagger as long as his arm, a tunic that's too large for him, and a cloak that he keeps tripping over. 

"Maybe pass on the cloak..." I suggest. 

"But, it's a cloak!" Rispy protests. "Cloaks are awesome!" 

"When you aren't tripping over them, or getting them caught in things, sure," Sirius says. "Ah, hell with it." He points his wand at Rispy's cloak. " _Diffindo_." The lower end of the cloak shears off neatly, leaving it hanging down only to his knees. "There, shorter cloak." 

"Alright, let's go already!" Rispy says eagerly. "The adventure awaits!" 

Two humans, one servile, and a fyora leave the village of Vakkiri. We head north, in the direction of the Shaping school that Learned Pinner mentioned. After a bit of walking, we come upon a sign that reads, "Bandit Woods. Pass toll 10 coins." 

"Bandit Woods?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, serviles might not be as stupid as Shapers think they are, but they're very obvious with names sometimes." 

"Oh, the bandits," Rispy says. "Brodus mentioned something about them. They've been raiding the village for food and she wishes they'd stop, but she couldn't afford to send anyone after them." 

"Well, maybe we can do something about them, then," I say. "If they're bandits, they're making themselves fair game." 

We proceed forward down the path, and shortly come upon several armed serviles. "Halt!" says their leader, clearly fighting back fear. "I be Ghurk, and this my land. Shaper or no, you must pay toll to pass here." 

"You're bandits, and we're going to kill you," I say. 

I shoot fire from my hands, and my companions join in the assault. Several serviles die beneath our attacks, scorched and bleeding. Unfortunately, I had vastly underestimated the bandits' numbers, strength, and resolve. Sparky is cut down with a spear, laying motionless in a heap on the ground. Another bandit strikes Rispy from behind, running him through with a dagger. Three javelins pierce my chest before I go down, rapidly losing blood and unable to breathe. As the darkness takes me, I think that this was a terrible idea. 

* * *

I wake in the small building in Vakkiri that Sirius and I spent the night in. Alright, note to self: Serviles are _vicious_. 

We go out and collect Rispy, and head out of the village again. 

"Stop!" says Ghurk. "I Ghurk, bandit leader. We not care that you is Shaper. You still must pay toll. Ten coins, or go back!" 

"Why are you doing this, Ghurk?" I ask. 

"We read old Shaper books," Ghurk says. "We try lifestyle they mention. Banditry! It easier than farming crops!" 

"Did those books you read also tell you what tends to happen to bandits?" I ask. 

"They... get females," Ghurk says. "And treasure!" 

Sirius and I put our hands in our palms in unison. "Don't tell me you've been reading _fiction_?" Sirius says incredulously. 

"What be fiction?" Ghurk asks, looking puzzled. 

"Fiction means that it isn't true," I say. 

"Why write something that not true?" Ghurk wonders. 

"Entertainment," Sirius says. "People read books for fun, to enjoy themselves." 

"And what generally _really_ happens to bandits is that they wind up killed or spending time in prison," I say. 

"If you threatening us, we fight!" Ghurk says. 

"I'm not threatening you, just warning you," I say. "If I don't kill you here today, someone else will eventually. So long as you're putting pressure on Vakkiri, eventually they're going to decide that you're too much trouble to leave alone. And if they can't manage the resources to get rid of you, you know what might happen? The village might die out. Nobody farming crops means you have to do it yourself or starve." 

"I not think of it that way," Ghurk says. 

"You know what I'd suggest?" I say. "Be adventurers, not bandits. Hunt down any rogue creations near Vakkiri in exchange for food and money. Then you'll be loved and appreciated, rather than despised." 

"But fighting rogues dangerous," Ghurk says. 

"So is banditry," I say. "Especially when you think that demanding money from a Shaper is a good idea. I'm only human. You could still kill me. But how many of your own would it cost you? Is that worth ten coins?" 

"I... No," Ghurk says. "No, it not." He pauses thoughtfully. "You no have to pay. We think on what you say. Maybe try... adventuring." 

We continue on toward the Shaper school. The woods past the area claimed by Ghurk's people are infested with rogue fyoras. We wind up having to fight our way past a number of them. There's a small building tucked away in the trees, with its door stuck in the down position. 

"Looks like the front door must have died," Sirius comments. 

"Died?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "You mean even the _doors_ are alive?" 

Sirius snickers softly. "That was about my reaction when I first heard about it, too." 

Rispy is looking at me oddly. "Are you really a Shaper?" 

"No," I reply. "I'm just a random mage pretending to be one. I don't even _like_ the Shapers." 

"Hah, I _knew_ it," Rispy says. "I didn't really think any Shaper would say the kinds of things you were saying." 

"They wouldn't," Sirius says. "Not if they wanted to keep their heads." 

Inside the building are some locked chests. I _Alohomora_ each of them and shove the supplies inside into the bag of holding. 

"When I said that you needed to pay for that canister yourself, I didn't mean for you to turn into a kleptomaniac over it," Sirius says. 

"If I were turning into a kleptomaniac, I'd be compulsively stealing everything in Vakkiri when its owners aren't looking," I say. "Or sometimes when they are. Besides, scavenging is a good way to make money." 

A little ways further into the forest, we come upon the entrance to a large, underground area, with two Shaper statues prominently outside. The obelisks standing outside the tunnel are illegible now, but I can only assume that this is the school that Learned Pinner mentioned. 

We head inside. The smooth stone floors tiled in blue and gray are lit by more of those crystals that light up whenever anyone gets close. Some of the crystals are broken, leaving sections of the school in shadows. The hallways echo with distant growls and shuffling of non-human feet. There seems to be a large number of rogue creations inside. 

Sure enough, we don't go far down one of the corridors before encountering some fyoras. They're easy prey, though, disorganized and just wandering about aimlessly. Not that mere fyoras would actually be all that dangerous even if they were hunting in packs like the ones that burned down our tent. Except to things that aren't fireproof. 

There are also tall humanoid creatures with greyish-green skin. "What are those things?" I wonder. "They look a little like trolls." 

"Thahds," Sirius explains. "Pretty dumb. Like to punch things. Not much more to them. They aren't resistant to magic or anything, so just kill them. Preferably before they punch your face in." 

We kill a few thahds as well as the fyoras as we go. In the first large room we enter into, I smell something strange. The stone basins on the floor are cracked and empty, but at the far end of the room, there are a couple metal vats that I can hear bubbling and hissing coming from inside of them. 

"Strange," Sirius says. "You'd think there wouldn't be anything like this left after two hundred years." 

"Maybe someone was in here more recently," I say. 

I go over to one of the vats and peer inside. It smells awful, like a half-rotten soup, and it looks like there's a lump of flesh inside of it. I frown and grab a ladle from the table, and poke at the goo inside the vat. It twitches and stirs, and a creature lunges forth. I stumble back quickly, and see that it's a horribly misshapen fyora. It's like someone was trying to make one, but really didn't know what they were doing. 

"Boy, was that ugly," Sirius says after we put the badly mutated fyora out of its misery. 

" _Somebody_ has been experimenting with Shaping," I say. 

"Do you suppose those outsiders might have come out this way?" Sirius says. 

"It certainly wasn't _my_ people," Rispy says. "We know better." 

I go over toward the other vat and look inside. When I poke at this one, however, a large bubble bursts, and the air around me is filled with a horrible cloud of noxious gas. "Poison!" I gasp. I collapse to the ground, coughing and choking, head spinning, lungs burning. I'm dead in moments. 

* * *

I wake in our house in Vakkiri. Well, that was unpleasant. I hate poison, I really do. Once again, we go and collect Rispy, get some breakfast, and leave town. 

"Rispy, if you're going to be traveling with us, there's something you should know," I say. I'd forgotten about telling him before, but I think it's best to get it all out in the open now. 

"What is it?" Rispy asks. 

"For starters," I say. "I'm not actually a Shaper." 

"Heh," Rispy says in amusement. "I knew it. I didn't think any real Shaper would say the things you did." 

"You'd be right about that," Sirius says. "Lexen's not exactly doing a very good job of pretending to be a Shaper, but I don't think he really cares." 

I chuckle. "Next up, we're not actually even from this world." 

"Huh?" Rispy says. "You're from another world?" 

"Two other worlds, technically," Sirius adds. 

"Not that that really means much to you," I say. "Since you've been on this island your entire life. But what it really means is that we're from a place the Shapers never had any hold over. The very concept of Shaping is pretty foreign to us." 

Rispy nods. "I see. That might explain your attitude toward creations." 

"I don't think anyone should be forced to serve anyone else against their will," I say. "So, point number three. I'm a time traveler." 

"You're a what?" Rispy says. 

"Time traveler," I say. "When I die, I go back in time to the last time I woke up. I've actually already died twice today." 

"You have?" Sirius says in alarm. "What killed you?" 

"Bandits the first time, a vat full of toxic gas the second," I say, grumbling a little. "Anyway, Rispy, I can understand this is a lot to take in at once." 

"Are you kidding?" Rispy says. "This is _awesome!_ " 

I chuckle softly. "Just remember, these are my three big secrets. I can trust you not to tell anyone, right?" 

"Of course," Rispy says. "I don't think anyone's really going to question the first, and nobody would even _think_ of the second or third." 

"Yeah," I say. "We'll tell you all about our worlds sometime to pass the time while we're traveling. Right now, I think we're coming up on the Bandit Woods again." 

"Again, he says," Sirius says, snickering. 

The leader of the servile bandits approaches us. "I Ghurk. This our land, Shaper. You must still pay toll. Ten coins!" 

"Oh, really?" I drawl. "What's the toll for? Are you working to keep this area clear of rogue creations?" 

"Well, we do kill any that bother us..." Ghurk says. "But we first servile bandits! We take money and raid village!" 

I roll my eyes. Serviles might be sentient, but there's a wide range of _intelligence_ within the scope of that. "You could at least _pretend_ to be doing something legitimate and useful out here. You know, if you kept the area around Vakkiri clear of rogues, I'm sure they wouldn't mind giving you food and coin for your trouble. And don't even argue to me that fighting rogues is dangerous. They're mostly fyoras around here, from what I've seen. I can kill fyoras with my eyes closed and both hands tied behind my back, and you're threatening _me_ , so you obviously aren't all that weak." 

Ghurk stares at me. "Shaper has point. You no need pay toll. We... think about killing rogues." 

"You do that," I say. "Be sure to be quick about it. We'll wind up killing them all first if you're not careful." 

I stroll off in the general direction of the school. I go in and pick up the supplies from the room with the dead door. Then, it's back into the school again. 

"The poisoned vat that killed me earlier?" I say. "That was someone having been in here recently, trying their hand at Shaping. Pretty badly, I might add. We will be... avoiding those vats." 

In the room next to the vats in question, there's a lever held in place with locked chains in the back. I cast a quick Unlocking Charm and pull the lever. When the door slides open, my face lights up with the sight of a glowing canister. 

"Mine!" I say, rushing in and putting my hand on it. The liquid fills me up and changes me, making me feel stronger and tougher. This one didn't give me any new abilities, but rather, it feels like it made my body more durable. It's a wonderful feeling. 

We continue on, and fight our way through the school, killing rogue fyoras and thahds left and right, and collecting anything that looks even vaguely valuable. In one room, I'm pulling out junk to shove into my bag, and one of the things _squirms_. I drop it in startlement. 

Sirius smirks at me. "That's a living tool, Lexen. You don't need to be scared of it." 

"It just... surprised me, is all," I say. I pick it up off the ground again and peer at it. The living tool appears to have a brown handle-like body, with three blue tentacles on one end. "Please tell me that this isn't a Shaper dildo." 

"Um, well, I'm sure some Shapers have used them as such," Sirius says. "I mainly used them to pick locks that an Unlocking Charm didn't work on, myself." 

"Uh-huh," I say, shoving the living tool into the bag of holding and continuing on. 

One room off to the side contains a murky water reservoir. It looks like the school had its own supply of water. A little further down from there, we come upon several storerooms full of supplies and equipment. 

"What in the Abyss is this?" I ask, holding up something that looks like the carapace of a large insect, but the way it has straps attached to it makes me think that it's meant to be worn. 

"Oh! Chitin armor!" Rispy says. "Can I have one of those?" 

"Be my guest," I say, tossing it over to him. "I have no desire to wear a bug." 

In the next room, there are several oddly shaped sticks of some sort. I pick up one and examine it closely. As I do so, there's a thwipping sound, and a sharp projectile grazes the side of my head, narrowly missing my eye. 

"That's a thorn baton," Sirius says. "Don't shoot yourself in the eye with it." 

"I figured that out," I mutter, healing the wound. 

"Can I have one of those, too?" Rispy asks. 

"Sure," I say, handing the baton over to him carefully. "Don't shoot yourself in the eye with it. Actually, don't do a lot of things I do. Especially if they kill me." 

"Noted," Rispy says, giggling. He scoops up a pile of thorns, presumably the ammunition used by a thorn baton. 

"So, let me guess, thorn batons are alive, too?" I say. "Some sort of plant, I guess?" 

"Pretty much," Sirius says. "You think that's weird? I once saw a place where they _breed_ living tools and thorn batons. Actually, I wasn't really supposed to be in there, either..." 

"You keep hinting at all these fun adventures you had," I say, grumbling. "I really, really wish I could remember the last five years." 

"Relax, Lexen," Sirius says. "We'll make more." 

The final room in the storage section is locked, but a quick _Alohomora_ takes care of that. Inside, there's another canister! Well, several chests, too, but most importantly, a canister! I eagerly run up and use this one as well. 

"What'd you get this time, canister addict?" Sirius asks. 

"I can shoot acid from my fingertips!" I say, spraying a nearby wall with corrosive liquid. 

"Alright, I'm going to make sure everything is acidproof now too," Sirius says dryly. 

We leave the storage area and continue exploring. Further on, past some more rogue fyoras and thahds, we come across a room with several vats. These contain a handful of pods of various colors. 

"I am never going to keep these pod colors straight," I say. 

The next room over contains a crumbling book. It looks like the journal of one of the teachers in the school. The page it's open to is still legible. "It has come to this," the journal reads. "All of our work is to be destroyed. After all that we have achieved, we have been ordered to put an end to it. But there will be leaks. Not everything will be forgotten. This journal, for instance, will remain here, to detail all of our masterful techniques for anyone that comes after." 

Eagerly, I poke at the book carefully, trying not to damage it further. "I don't suppose you know any spells to restore a book, do you, Sirius?" I ask. 

"Nothing that would help against something so badly damaged," Sirius says. 

I sigh in frustration. "Damn it." What's the point in even coming here if I can't learn these secrets myself? 

Then, as we're getting close to the heart of the school, we come upon a corridor that looks like several walls have been blasted down. 

"This probably isn't a good sign," Sirius observes. 

At the end of the corridor, we enter into a wide room containing several Shaping platforms and pens. One particularly large and green thahd actually addresses us. "Invaders! I Rawbone! I kill you now!" 

"A talking thahd?" Sirius says. "And it still has nothing useful to say." 

We engage Rawbone and a handful of other thahds and fyoras. I take out a couple of the thahds with firebolts. Rispy nails the fyoras with thorns from his new baton. Sparky charges forward and bites Rawbone on the leg, causing him to fall over. And Sirius finishes him off with a curse. 

"Smart thahds still aren't very smart," Sirius comments. 

Toward one side of the room, I find a chest containing what must be Rawbone's possessions. It's mostly scavenged trash, but there's also a key. I'm guessing that it probably goes to the locks that I already opened with _Alohomora_ , but I take it along anyway just in case. 

In the corner of the school furthest from the entrance, we come upon a locked room leading to the school's servant mind. I open the way with the key I found, since I might as well put it to some use, and we head inside. 

The servant mind inside isn't moving, and I have to wonder if it's even still alive. But as we approach, it begins to stir slowly, its tiny legs twitching a little within its stone crib. "Welcome, Shaper. I am Mind Povralus. Forgive me for being slow. I will try to wake quickly." 

"I'm just glad that you're still alive," I say. 

"The Shapers made me well," Povralus says. "I should be able to live for another hundred years without a problem. They fed me with a special nutrient solution that has kept me going." 

Mind Povralus says, "I'm afraid that much of my knowledge has been lost, but what remains is at your disposal." 

"Did you forget it during your hiberation?" I ask. 

"No," Povralus says. "Most of it was blocked off." 

"Who would do something like that?" I wonder, clenching my fist. 

"A Shaper came to me, and ordered me to forget all of the wonderful things that were learned here," Povralus says. "She said that the school was to be closed forever, and the knowledge destroyed. I obeyed as well as I could, naturally." 

"Do you know why this was done?" I ask. It angers me to think that someone would order a being to forget, and moreso that the being is so blindly obedient that it can and will do so. 

"I think I remember something about dangerous knowledge being discovered," Povralus says. "But I am not certain. I do not question the Shapers, unless they ask it." 

"Is there nothing at all that you can tell me?" I ask. 

"I was ordered to forget everything that I had learned and could teach to others," Povralus says. "I followed those orders to the best of my ability." 

"Do you remember nothing at all?" I ask. 

"I might be able to do some minor mod..." Povralus trails off. "No, I cannot behave in this way. It contradicts my orders." 

"I'm giving you new orders," I say. "Aren't I the only Shaper on the island? Doesn't that technically make me in charge of this facility?" 

Povralus thinks about this for a moment. "I cannot contradict you. I'm afraid I have no way to teach what I do not know, however. But there is one thing that I can do." 

The servant mind looks at me intently, and I feel a strange sensation burning through my body, reminiscent of using the canisters. When it's done, it feels like my fire magic has grown stronger. 

"What the..." I say. "How did you do that?" 

"I'm sorry, Shaper, but I cannot answer that," Povralus replies. "I do not know how it was done, only that I was capable of it. And now I shall forget that I can do that, since those are my orders." 

"What did it do?" Sirius asks. 

"Mind Povralus changed me, like a canister," I say. 

Sirius's eyes widen. "I've never heard of a servant mind being able to do something like that. Creations aren't supposed to be able to Shape." 

I sigh. "Thanks for your help, Mind Povralus. I don't think we're any closer to finding the answers we seek, but at least this excursion hasn't been a complete waste of time. We'll be going now." 

"Farewell, Shaper," Povralus says. "Good luck." 

"Yeah, I'm doomed," I mutter as we head out of the school. 

* * *

Back in Vakkiri, I first stop by the shopkeeper to dump off a pile of scavenged goods for coin. I don't know where the servile gets all of his money, but I don't care to ask, either. 

After that, I head straight for Dreet's house. "Here's your money for that canister," I say, forking over a pouch full of coins. "Can I have it now? Please? Please?" 

"Be my guest," Dreet says, opening the door for me and standing inside. "Enjoy." 

I go in hurriedly and use the canister. This one gives me a new spell, a sort of blessing it seems like. I'll have to try it out later. 

Then, we head over to the feasting hall to see Brodus Blade. "Oh, you're back," Brodus says. "I'm glad to see Rispy is still doing alright." She looks at him appraisingly. "And he's gotten some new equipment." 

"It's been great!" Rispy says. "I've killed lots of rogues. I'll make for a mighty warrior yet!" 

"You know those bandits north of town?" I say. "The ones in the very creatively named Bandit Woods?" 

"Did you kill them?" Brodus asks. 

"I might have convinced them to leave Vakkiri alone and go hunting rogues instead," I say. "So if they actually start doing so, you might want to consider giving them food or coin for their trouble." I snort softly. "If nothing else, I convinced them that trying to extort Shapers is stupid." 

"I see," Brodus says. "Well, if they start killing rogues for us, then I am certainly grateful." 

Finally, we return to the Shaping hall to speak with Learned Pinner. 

"Ah, you've returned," Pinner says. "Did you learn anything from the ruined school?" 

"We spoke to the servant mind," I say. "Unfortunately, he was ordered to forget everything before the island was abandoned. It seems that some sort of dangerous knowledge was discovered here." 

"This seems somewhat strange," Pinner says. "Although if nothing else, it can give us serviles a measure of peace. We have long worried that there was some powerful and dangerous rogue creation on the island somewhere, but it seems that is likely not the case." 

"Yeah, probably no dragons wanting to swoop in and eat you all for lunch," Sirius says. 

"I can only assume that whatever they discovered is connected to these canisters somehow," I say. 

"Still, there is nothing very important around here," Pinner says. "Whatever answers you seek, you will likely need to travel further to the east to find them." 

"We'll find them," I say. 

"Yeah," Sirius says. "Secrets that people tried to hide? I'm all for digging those up. Like bones in the backyard."


	8. Freedom Lovers

"So where are we going next?" Rispy asks us at breakfast. 

"East, I suppose," I say. "Let's make a stop by Ellhrah's fort. I'd dearly like to meet him." 

"If you're heading into Watchhill, look out for rogues," Brodus says. "There have been a lot of them around there lately, mostly thahds, and I don't know where they're coming from." 

"We'll clear some of them out along the way," I say. "Maybe, if we're lucky, we'll even find the source of them." 

"You have an interesting definition of 'lucky'," Sirius comments. 

"Yeah, always bad," I say. 

"Is that why you always get annoyed whenever anyone wishes you luck?" Sirius asks. 

"Luck is _never_ on my side," I say. 

We head out of the village to the east this time and look around. As we travel further away from Vakkiri, we come across more and more rogue thahds. They're just wandering around blankly, mindlessly attacking anything they come across that isn't another thahd. Deeper in the forest, we come upon what might be an old Shaper watch post, carved away inside of a hill. The thahds are thickest around this area, and the sounds of more of them moving about can be heard coming from inside. 

We go in to look around, killing more rogue thahds along the way. The place is not only in ruins, but completely trashed by the monsters that have been living in it. There's the faint tang of vinegar in the air, which seems strange. Still, there are some potentially valuable supplies and equipment to be found, which I shove into my bag. 

"You already bought that canister," Sirius says. "Why are you still collecting everything that might possibly sell for a couple coins?" 

I snort softly. "What if we find something else we want to buy? Besides, if we collect enough money before we leave this island, we could live like old purebloods again!" 

"I don't know that I'd want to..." Sirius says, smirking. "The courier jobs were an excuse to move around without being questioned as much as they were to feed us. But fine, if you want to grab everything in sight and dump it at the nearest merchant, don't let me stop you." 

There's also a canister in one of the storerooms, which I eagerly use. It's always a great feeling, but I'm a little disappointed when I figure out what it does. I can now make my very own thahds. I really don't want to. 

In the back of Watchhill, we come upon a large room where the vinegar smell seems strongest. I freeze in the doorway. A strange creature, or perhaps a large plant, sits next to a pool of viscous, swirling essence goo. As I watch, it squeezes another thahd out of a tube and drops it to the ground. 

"Looks like we've found the source of the rogues," Sirius says, wide-eyed. "Lucky us." 

"What in the Abyss _is_ that thing?" I breathe. 

"Let's just kill it and figure it out later," Rispy suggests. 

We charge in, slaying the fresh rogue creations around it and battering away at the monstrosity with spells and weapons. The thing is large and tough, but at least it doesn't have any way to actually defend itself beyond spitting out new creations. Eventually, we do enough damage to it that it collapses in pieces. 

Once it's dead, we take a closer look around the room. The pool reminds me a bit of the essence pools back in the Shaping hall at the docks, but it's the wrong color, and it smells wrong, too. I spot something sparkling in the midst of the remains of the creature, and pull out a couple small gemstones. Whoever made it probably used them as a magical focus. I wipe them off and drop them in my bag. 

"Have you ever seen anything like this before, Sirius?" I ask. 

"This? Never," Sirius says. "It's strictly forbidden for creations to be able to make other creations, beyond the natural breeding of a couple species like serviles." 

"This had to have been put here recently," Rispy says. "We weren't having nearly this much trouble with rogues before." 

"So who made it?" I wonder. "How did it get here? Could those mysterious outsiders have put it here?" 

"Someone had to have," Sirius says. "It seems like a real prank, setting up a thing that spawns rogue creations near a village. You don't suppose somebody doesn't like Vakkiri and the Awakened, hmm?" 

"The Obeyers wouldn't have done this, even if they were capable of it," Rispy says. "I wouldn't put it past the Takers, but there's no way a servile would have been able to Shape something like this." 

"Rispy, when we were in Vakkiri before, we talked to a Taker spy," I say. "He implied that the Takers have recently gained powerful allies..." 

Rispy frowns. "That's not a good sign." He looks up at me. "You didn't turn the spy in?" 

I shake my head. "I saw no reason to do so. Right now, I don't want to openly pick sides. To be honest with you, I think the Takers might have the right idea, but if they do things like this, they go too far. And the spy suggested that we kill Ellhrah, which is _really_ going too far." 

"What do you mean, they have the right idea?" Rispy says. "They're crazy!" 

"I don't know that they're actually crazy," I say. "I haven't been there to talk to them yet, but the one Taker I did speak with sounded perfectly reasonable, if a little extreme." 

"What Lexen means is that the Awakened are idealistic," Sirius says. "The Shapers accepting them as equals is a nice thought, but not one that's ever likely to happen." 

Rispy frowns. "Well, I'm sure it wouldn't be easy, but couldn't we eventually prove to them that we're worthy of respect?" 

Sirius laughs softly. "No offense, Rispy, you're a good kid and all, but... you've never actually met a real Shaper. I have. They won't even accept _other humans_ as equals. Even me, an outsider mage. I was seen as inferior to any Shaper. If they can't even treat non-Shaper humans with respect, what makes you think they'd ever stoop to the level of accepting _creations_ as equals?" 

Rispy slumps to the floor, as if his entire world has been shattered. I glance aside to Sirius. That was a bit of a harsh way to put it, but perhaps it's best to get rid of Rispy's delusions as soon as possible. 

"I always hoped..." Rispy murmurs. "But, I can see your point... I don't know what's right anymore..." 

I go up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Rispy," I say gently. "You're not alone. You don't have to be alone. We're not Shapers, and _we_ will always treat you and every other being with the respect they deserve. I believe in freedom for all beings, and I mean it. The Awakened way might not be the way to achieve it. The Taker way might not be, either, but that remains to be seen. But believe me when I say that, one way or another, I will find a way to freedom for your people and mind." 

Rispy is quiet for a long moment, then gives a nod. "Thank you," he says softly. "I've been glad to travel with you, but I see now that things are never as simple as they first appear." He stands up and brushes himself off. "But it seems to me that we have a long way to go yet." 

"That we do," I say wistfully. "But that's alright." 

"Are you actually planning to kill Ellhrah?" Rispy asks. 

"Not at this time," I say. "What would you do if I ever decided that it was necessary?" 

"I don't know," Rispy says. "I really don't know. Yesterday, I would have tried to stop you without hesitation, even if it killed me. But now I'm not so sure. Can I even call myself Awakened any longer?" 

"Call yourself anything you like," I say. "People are not so simple as labels. Ultimately, everyone is an individual, with choices to make of their own. Keep your eyes open and learn to make your own judgments." 

"I think I could learn more of the world following you for a day than I could spending a lifetime in Vakkiri," Rispy says. He heads for the door. "Well, let's go. You wanted to meet Ellhrah, didn't you?" 

I chuckle softly, and say, "Yes. Let's." 

Now that the rogue spawner has been killed, Rispy leads us off through the forest to the keep of Ellhrah. It's another large Shaper ruin, but the serviles have worked hard to restore the place. The floors have been replaced with fresh wooden planks, and many of the tapestries hanging along the walls have been repaired. The guards welcome us cordially as we enter, but remain on alert, carefully watching our every move. A wise precaution. 

The guards point us in the direction that we can find Ellhrah, but I ignore them and head for some merchant stands off toward the left of the entrance. I have some junk to sell, and I want to see what I can get for these gems. And I'm not telling anyone what I had to pull them out of. 

"Are you ever actually planning to _buy_ anything at any of these shops?" Sirius says to me quietly once I'm done there. 

"Maybe," I say. "If I ever see anything I actually want. So far, it's just been the same junk that's laying around everywhere anyway." 

On the way to see Ellhrah, we pass by a large pool of water in the center of the keep. A servile sweeping there shyly approaches us. "Hello. I am Ting. I have something to say to you." 

"So say it," I say lightly. "I'm listening." 

"There's something useful hidden in this keep," Ting says. 

"Well, I could have probably guessed that," I say. "People like to hide all sorts of things in places, and sometimes they might be useful. Or at least, sell for some coins." 

"At the south end of the fort, you can find a wand," Ting says. "Down a long corridor, past a guard, behind a door." 

"A wand?" I say, raising an eyebrow. "I already have a wand, thanks. But I suppose another one couldn't hurt." 

"I don't think she means that kind of wand," Sirius whispers to me. 

"It's a powerful Shaper artifact," Ting says. "With it, you could destroy any creation. Just point it at them, and poof, they're no more! Even Ellhrah and his guards! Poof!" 

I raise an eyebrow. "Do you have something against Ellhrah?" 

Ting gives a small smile. "I know you talked to Nabb. And I'd give my life in order to help you do what he asked you to." 

Another Taker spy, then. They must be all over the place, if they even have one so close to Ellhrah. "If it's so easy, why haven't you done it yourself?" I ask. 

"We're waiting to see what you do," Ting replies. 

"Uh-huh," I say. "I told Nabb that I'd think about it, and I still will. I haven't even spoken with Ellhrah yet." 

Because if Ellhrah were killed by a Taker spy, it would look bad for the Takers, while if he were killed by a Shaper, this could only look _good_ for the Takers. I have little doubt that if they could get a spy in here, they could have killed Ellhrah by now if they really wanted to. 

We head into the next room. There's a servile here, a well-built warrior, who looks me straight in the eye without a trace of fear. "Welcome, Shaper. I am Ellhrah, of the Awakened." 

"I'm Lexen, and this is Sirius, Rispy, and Sparky." The fyora lets out a little meep. "Please, call me Lexen." I spent much of my last life being called by a name that wasn't mine, or a title, but at least that title was my own. I'd really like to actually be called by my _own name_ now. 

"Very well, Lexen," Ellhrah says. "Ever since I heard of your arrival on this island, I have eagerly awaited the opportunity to speak with you." 

"That hasn't really been a very long wait, then," I say. 

"I am eager to tell you more about the Awakened and our beliefs," Ellhrah says. "The purpose of my entire life is to tell about the Awakened and to guide people on that path." 

"You make it sound like some sort of religion," I say. "But fine. Tell me about your beliefs, then." I think I've already heard more than enough about the Awakened, but I must be patient. Perhaps I have misunderstood something somewhere, misinterpreted by one of the serviles I spoke to. I would like to hear what the founder of the Awakened envisioned for them. 

"We believe that you Shapers created us, and while we should be grateful for this, we do not need to be your slaves any longer," Ellhrah says. "We can deal with you like equals, and offer fair trade for goods and services. We believe that we can live together with the Shapers in peace and dignity." 

Okay, so no. I didn't misunderstand anything. I think I'm actually starting to see why the Takers want him dead, too. "It's... an admirable goal," I say generously. "And I quite agree with you that no being should be enslaved." 

"I am quite pleased that we were able to convince the first Shapers we've met," Ellhrah says. "It gives me real hope for the future." 

"Don't get your hopes up," I say. "I'm not exactly a typical Shaper. Don't judge the entire sect by my actions. They would probably kill me for some of the things I've said and done." 

"You can say that again," Sirius says. "And _I_ think you're all being a bunch of hypocrites. Lexen is being followed around by a mage and a servile, and yet all anyone ever wants to talk to is the Shaper." 

"My apologies," Ellhrah says. "I assumed that Lexen was in charge." 

"We're traveling companions, not a boss and his minions," I say. "We're equals. And yet, despite all of your talk of equality, _you_ are ignoring my friends in favor of talking to me. And then, when I say that I agree with you, you assume that _you_ convinced me of your beliefs." 

"I did not mean to offend," Ellhrah stammers. 

"I see what it is," I say. "Even after all this time, after all you've been through, you're still hoping for the approval of the Shapers. You're just going about it in a different way than the Obeyers. You still hang on the every word of the only Shaper you've come across. Waiting to see what I might say. Do you deny this?" 

"Lexen," Sirius says. "Calm down." 

I sigh, and take a deep breath. Was I really getting angry or upset about this? I must stay calm. I must remain in control. "Sorry," I say quietly. "I didn't mean to yell at you." 

"You're kind of scary when you get angry," Rispy says. 

"It's those canisters," Sirius says. "They're changing you somehow, and not just giving you new abilities. I don't really know what they're doing, but they're even starting to make you look different." 

"I look different?" I say. 

Sirius nods. "You know, your eyes are starting to almost glow." 

"My _eyes_ are _glowing_?" I say in alarm. 

"If I were you, I wouldn't touch the things," Sirius says. "Hell, I _haven't_ touched the things. But just be aware that for all the power and strength that they might give you, there's still a price you may wind up having to pay that you don't know about yet. I don't want to lose you again." 

I sigh. "I'll be careful. And I'll also be more careful to stay in control. I apologize again, Ellhrah. Let me just say that, above all else, I support freedom for all beings. But don't count on any support from the rest of the Shapers. It's probably best to just think of me as a sort of rogue Shaper." 

"I understand that it will be difficult to get the Shapers to see our way of thinking," Ellhrah says. "But we will not be like the Takers, to desire nothing but bloody war against your kind." 

"I wish you well in your endeavors," I say. I turn to head away, not trusting myself to avoid another outburst if I hear more of his pointless and misguided preaching. 

I wander off to poke around the fort some more, my companions trailing along behind me quietly. Although the serviles have restored a good portion of the Shaper construction, there are still caved in passages and half-ruined tunnels that they don't seem to have gotten to yet. 

"Why don't we do a bit of looking around back here?" I murmur to my friends. "See what they might be hiding back here." 

"Sounds good," Sirius says. 

"I never thought they might actually be hiding anything here," Rispy says. "But after what Ting said, I have to wonder..." 

The tunnels behind the fort are icy cold. I poke my head behind a corner and see something moving for a moment. A bipedal lizard with blue scales, a little larger than a fyora, but looking more or less the same sort of creature. I pull back. "There's a blue fyora over there." 

"A cryoa," Sirius says. 

"A cryoa?" I repeat. "Let me guess, it's like a fyora, except it spits ice instead?" 

"Pretty much, yeah," Sirius says. 

I step back around the corner and quickly dispatch the cryoa with firebolts. 

"I hope that wasn't anyone's pet," Sirius says absently. 

"Nah. Probably just rogues that got in somehow," Rispy says. 

There's several more cryoas in the back of the fort, which we slay in due order. In one side room, I find another canister. Whatever Sirius said about them, I find myself charging forward and using it before I even realize what I'm doing. Every little delicious increase in power, and yet I have to wonder what the price might be. Does anything come without a price? I hope that I'm not paying for this one well into my next life, too. 

"Sirius..." I say quietly. "Keep an eye on me, alright?" 

"I always do," Sirius says. 

"You know what I believe and what path I wish to walk," I say. "Can you let me know if I ever seem to be straying from that?" 

"You don't trust yourself to do so?" Sirius asks. 

"I don't know," I say. "I really don't know." 

"So _stop using the canisters_ ," Sirius says. 

I shake my head. "No. I'm going to keep using every canister I can find. And I will stay in control. There's no guarantee that it'll get so bad as you're afraid of. I'm just paranoid. I just want to make sure you're there to catch me if I ever stop to slip. I doubt I'd listen to anyone else, even myself." 

"Alright," Sirius says, sighing. "Don't worry, Lexen. I'll look out for you, like I always have." 

"And Sirius..." I say quietly. "If it ever looks like I've gone so far over the edge that I can never come back... I want you to use the Killing Curse on me." 

" _What?_ " Sirius exclaims. "You can't ask that of me!" 

"I mean it, Sirius," I say. "It's not like it would actually _kill_ me." 

"I know... it's just... Lexen, really," Sirius says, shaking his head. "If you're so afraid of losing yourself, then stop. Stop right now, and never look back. And what if it's something that will remain with you even if you go back to the beginning?" 

"I'll take that risk," I say. "Just tell me, please, that if I ever wind up so far gone that I actually try to kill you, that you won't hesitate to stop me. Please. I'm begging you." 

Sirius sighs. "I'd hope it never comes to that point. But fine. If you ever try to kill me, I will stop you. Alright? Happy now?" 

"Relieved," I say. "Alright, let's see what else is back here." 

We pass quietly by a guard who is taking a nap, and come to a couple of locked doors. I say "locked door", but they're all just actually doors with levers locked with chains. Since the doors are just weird stone and plant things, I doubt _they_ can actually be locked themselves. A couple Unlocking Charms later, and I claim another canister and a strange-looking bone wand with a green crystal at one end. 

"This is the wand Ting mentioned, I presume?" I say. 

"I guess so," Sirius says. 

Back past the guard again, we come upon another locked door. " _Alohomora_ ," I murmur, and we head inside. There's another canister inside, that I make a beeline for. One I'm done using the canister, I actually look around the room. There's a servant mind here, very clearly dead, having been hacked at dozens of times with a bladed weapon. 

"Somebody _really_ didn't like this servant mind," Sirius says. 

"Poor thing," I say. "What did the servant mind ever do to them?" 

"It was probably trying to control us serviles or something," Rispy says. "They're always _really_ loyal to the Shapers. It probably thought we were dangerous rogues." 

In a nearby cabinet, I find a ceramic jar containing a thick paste. Maybe this is the nutrient solution used to feed the servant minds. Thinking it might eventually come in handy, I tuck it away in my bag. 

We return to the main part of the fort, the servile guards still unaware that we had even been back poking into things we probably shouldn't have been. 

"Let's stay the night in the fort," I say. "We're going to have to decide where to go next." 

"Well, I'm running low on thorns for my baton," Rispy says. "If you don't want to actually spend coins to _buy_ some, we could always collect more from the source. There's a swamp to the east of here that's full of bushes that grow thorns for batons." 

"Sounds like a plan," I say. "We can head out there first thing in the morning." 

"You and your obsession with mornings," Sirius says. "I'm not exactly a morning person." 

"That's hardly my fault," I say. "Go to bed earlier." 

"Blasphemy," Sirius says, looking scandalized. "There's a lot of things that can be done at night!" 

I give him an odd look. "Don't tell me you've been sneaking around pranking the serviles while I'm asleep." 

Sirius gives an innocent look. "Not... yet, anyway. Although I did sneak into the locked back room of the shop in Vakkiri to see what he had back there." 

"What did he have back there?" I ask. 

"Worthless junk," Sirius says. "But it's the principle of it! There might have been something good, and not just trash that happened to belong to a Shaper at one point!" 

I snort softly. "Good night, Sirius. Try not to do anything that would make the serviles want to throw us out, please?" 

"Well, it's not my fault if they don't have a sense of humor," Sirius says. "And the ones who take themselves entirely too seriously are always the best targets for a prank." 

"Please?" I say. 

Rispy says, "Can I help?" 

Sirius grins broadly. "There's the spirit. Good night, Lexen. Rispy and I have _pranking_ to do!"


	9. Disobedience

I wake in the morning in Ellhrah's fort. Sirius and Rispy are still asleep on the pallets next to me. I smirk and pick up the blank parchment sticking out of Sirius's pocket. 

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," I murmur. 

Sirius has done a lot of work with the map since I last looked at it. It now shows dots of everyone in the keep, milling around and going about their daily tasks. It also introduces itself as being presented by Padfoot and _Rispy_. I'm almost a little hurt that I haven't been included, but then I haven't been participating in any pranks, either. 

"Mischief managed." I stuff the map back into Sirius's pocket and go to get dressed. 

I head off to see about some breakfast, and pass through a room that reminds me somewhat of a temple. Some serviles are sitting along log benches, while one reads from a book at the front on top of a lectern. 

"... and we must never forget the cruelties of the Shaper alchemist, Snivellus, who ground up servile babies to grease his hair with," reads the servile at the front. "This... um... teaches us... well, I'm not quite sure what this teaches us..." 

Snivellus? It takes a monumental effort for me to avoid bursting into laughter. "It teaches you not to believe everything you read in a book?" I offer. 

The servile lecturer glares at me. "You do not understand our ways, Shaper, but these are the most sacred teachings of the Awakened! They were penned by the hand of Ellhrah himself!" 

"Don't believe everything you read or hear, no matter who wrote it or said it," I say. "Not Ellhrah, not the Shapers, not even me. See things with your own eyes and make your own judgments." 

I stride out of the room and go to see about breakfast. A little while later, I'm joined by Sirius and Rispy, yawning and stretching as they come. 

"I was going to come poke you if you weren't awake by the time I was done eating," I say. 

"You wouldn't," Sirius says. 

"I totally would," I say. "I want to actually get something done today. Did you have fun last night?" 

Rispy grins broadly. "Yes, lots!" 

"It was a riot," Sirius says. 

"I heard the lecture being recited in the hall this morning," I say, smirking. "Snivellus? Really now? Was he all that bad?" 

"You didn't know him like I did," Sirius says. 

"No, I only knew him as my Potions professor," I say. 

"He went into teaching?" Sirius says. "Oh, those poor students." 

After breakfast, we head out of the fortress and make our way east toward the swamp that Rispy mentioned. The place turns out to be crawling with rogue creations of a sort I'm not familiar with. They're orangish reptiles with four long legs. 

"Okay, what are these things?" I ask. 

"Roamers," Sirius says. "Let's hope they're too dumb to remember that they know how to spit acid." 

"Uh, yeah," I say. 

Thankfully, these particular roamers don't do much of anything but try to run up and bite us, and wind up getting cut down by our attacks long before they even get close. 

The swamp is full of a number of scraggly, thorny bushes. Rispy goes up and gives them a quick shake, and a number of sharp thorns ready to be used in the baton fall forth. That seems easy enough, I suppose. 

We come upon a servile who is surrounded by roamers, and rescue her. "A Shaper?" she says once the roamers are dead. "I never dreamed that one of your mighty race would stoop to help one so humble as I. Please allow me to give you the awe and reverence that you deserve." 

"You must be an Obeyer," I say dryly. 

"Yes, I am," she says proudly. "I am from the village of Pentil. You would be most welcome there, where you will be treated with the honor and obedience due your lofty station." 

I think I would like nothing better than to _avoid_ Pentil, but it would probably be a good idea to go there anyway. There might be valuable information there, supplies, or something. 

"Yes, I might stop by there sometime," I say. "Will you be alright now?" 

"I can make it back on my own. You have my eternal gratitude, Shaper." She heads off into the forest. 

I turn to Rispy and say quietly, "I can see why the Awakened aren't fond of them." 

"You haven't seen the half of it yet," Rispy replies. "I'm betting that they'll be a lot less happy about seeing an actual Shaper around than they would have you believe." 

Further on in the swamp, we find some remnants of Shaper ruins. There isn't much left of them. Just a wall here and there, some exposed stone that's mostly overgrown. I find a canister behind one bit of wall, and excitedly go over to use it. 

"Another one?" Sirius says. "What this time?" 

"An unlocking spell, it seems," I say, grinning. "At this rate, I'm not going to really need my wand anymore for much." 

"So, are we going to Pentil next?" Rispy asks. 

"Talk me into it," I say. 

"They might give us free food," Sirius says. "Also, they'd be _really_ fun to prank." 

"Pranking the Obeyers wouldn't be the top of my list for reasons to go to Pentil," I say. 

"Aw, why not?" Sirius says. "You should get in on it too. It's a lot of fun." 

I sigh. "Do we have any reason to go to Pentil _aside_ from pranking them?" 

"They might know something about the mysterious outsiders," Rispy says. "Also, if the Awakened have been having problems with rogues, it's likely that the Obeyers have too. I might not agree with their philosophies, but they're still people, and I wouldn't like to see them hurt." 

"Rispy wins," I say. "Alright, we'll head to Pentil next, look for information, and analyze the situation. Rispy, you know where Pentil is, so you should lead the way." 

Rispy leads us off to the north, away from the swamp. After some traveling, we come to a place called Crag Valley. There's a small watch post with a couple of serviles sitting around a campfire. They look quite happy to see me. More Obeyers, perhaps? Or just very lonely with a horrible job? 

"Welcome to our lonely post, Shaper," says one of them. "I am Forney. Your presence eases the solitude of our post. We are loyal Obeyers, taught to honor the Shapers and have faith in your wisdom without question." 

I clench my fists, but try to stay calm. These Obeyers aggravate the _hell_ out of me. I take a few deep breaths, trying to come up with a diplomatic response to this. Sirius puts his hand on my shoulder reassuringly. 

"Of course you do," Sirius interjects. "We're heading to Pentil right now, in fact. How can we get there from here?" 

"You'll need to go through the Hills of Jars to the east," Forney replies. 

"Why is it called the Hills of Jars?" Sirius wonders. 

"Because there are many jars inside the hills." 

"At least it beats 'Bandit Woods', I suppose," Sirius says. 

"Have you had a lot of trouble with rogues out here lately?" Rispy asks. 

"Oh, yes," Forney says. "It has been difficult to keep the road from Vakkiri to Pentil clear at times. What's worse, recently the passage through the Hills of Jars has gotten closed off. I do not know what might have caused this, but I am certain that the mighty Shaper you are serving will be able to use his awesome powers to clear the way." 

"It's getting late," Sirius says. "Is there somewhere safe nearby that we can rest until morning?" 

Forney points off to a nearby building. "We sleep in there. If the Shaper and his companions wish to share the shelter of our humble abode, you are more than welcome. We will make certain that no rogues disturb the Shaper while he sleeps." 

"His name is Lexen," Rispy puts in. 

"We'll do that, thanks," Sirius says, and I follow him off into the building. Once we're inside, Sirius asks, "Are you alright, Lexen?" 

"Maybe it would be best if the two of you did the talking around the Obeyers," I say, sighing. "I don't want to say anything bad to them, but I can't agree with the sorts of things they say." 

"Oh, leave the hard jobs to us, huh?" Sirius says, chuckling. "Well, if it'll save you from blowing your lid and going on a psychotic rampage slaughtering everything in sight, then alright." 

"Thanks," I say quietly. 

* * *

"Why don't we go find some rogues to kill to blow off some steam?" Sirius suggests the next morning. "I'm sure there'll be no shortage of them." 

The woods are swarming with rogue thahds, and we sweep through killing any of them we come across. Then, ahead of us in a clearing, I spot what appears to be a large worm covered in beige armor plates. 

"What is that thing?" I ask quietly. 

"Artila," Sirius replies. "Spits acid. Kill it quickly." 

I incinerate the artila with a firebolt. "Great, something else to look out for. Why would the Shapers design an acid-spitting worm, anyway?" 

"Why do they do anything they do?" Sirius asks. "I assume they were made to kill one another with." 

There's another ruined building nestled into the woods. From inside, I can hear the hissing of many more artilas. A whiff of vinegar wafts through the air out from the building. 

The place is swarming with artilas. We fight our way through some of them, but there's too many. A glob of acid lands splat on my face. I scream in burning agony as I feel my eyes melting away. I'm no longer aware of what's happening around me, and it takes a good bit longer than I would like for me to die. 

* * *

I wake, screaming and clawing at my face. Gah, what an awful way to die. My face isn't being melted off by acid anymore. I'm back in the small building by the servile camp that we spent the night in. 

Sirius groans and sits up, looking over at me. "You'd better be dying to wake me up this early." 

"I did just die, does that count?" I say. 

"What happened?" Rispy asks. 

"Artilas," I say. "Many, many artilas." 

"Oh, that doesn't sound good at all," Sirius says. 

"We'll need to be careful," Rispy says. 

We eat a quick breakfast and head into the woods again. After fighting our way past several rogue thahds, we come upon the building again. I skirt away from the entrance and look around for another way in. Sure enough, there's a back entrance that has far fewer artilas swarming about. We head inside there. 

Maybe this building was a Shaping hall at some point. There's Shaping platforms here, and an intact essence pool, along with some beakers and vials and other Shaper equipment. Toward the far end of the room, there's a glowing crystal spiral near the wall, reaching almost to the ceiling. It appears to be filled with a greenish fluid, probably organic like everything else the Shapers are involved with. 

"What's this thing?" I wonder. 

"I'm not really sure," Sirius says. "I've seen them before, but I don't know what they're for. The Shapers weren't really keen on giving me the grand tour last time I was inside one of their halls." 

I go up and poke at the crystal spiral curiously. There's some moving parts, things that might be adjusted here and there, but I'm not sure what does what, or if some parts of it are even _supposed_ to be moving. 

The lights in the crystal shift, blinking rapidly. The liquid inside flows rapidly and unsteadily. And then it violently explodes. Shards of crystal impale my body, and the force of the explosion blows me back, leaving me bleeding and broken on the floor. I'm dead in moments. 

* * *

I wake back in the building by the servile camp. Alright, note to self. Don't mess with anything if I don't know what it does. Especially if it's glowing. 

When we return to the woods again and make our way back to the ruined Shaper hall, I not only avoid coming in by the main entrance, but _don't touch_ the glowing crystal spiral, either. 

There's a locked door leading toward the eastern part of the building. I put my new unlocking power to use, willing the chains to release the lever. With a click and a rattle, the chains fall away easily, allowing me to pull the lever to open the door. 

Just beyond the doorway, another rogue spawner sits next to a nasty pool of essence. Before it can spit out another artila, I attack it reflexively, hammering it with bolts of fire. My companions step up and help pelt it with attacks, until the spawner is nothing more than a pile of goo. 

"Now we know where the rogues in this area came from," Rispy says. 

"How many of these spawner things are there around this island?" I say. 

"And why did they just dump them in the middle of nowhere like this?" Sirius says. "It's like all they really wanted was to make a dangerous, monster infested wilderness. If they actually wanted to do some damage to the servile settlements, they could have come up with a much more effective strategy." 

"I have no idea," I say. "Let's see if we can clear out those artilas -- carefully. Then we can see if there's any canisters in here. I mean, anything of value." 

"You're not fooling me, Lexen," Sirius says with a smirk. 

Knowing that the artilas are there, we carefully hit them around corners, shooting them with firebolts and thorns while avoiding getting hit with their nasty acid spit in the process. 

With the artilas taken care of, we search the building. I find a couple more canisters laying around. There's some other miscellaneous supplies, but I pay little attention to them beyond shoving them into my bag. 

As we're heading back toward Forney's camp, I spot a tunnel leading into the side of a hill. "I wonder what's in there?" 

"Roamers, if the couple at the entrance are any indication," Rispy says. 

"Let's go in and find out," Sirius says. 

We head inside. Whatever purpose this ruin might have had has long since been lost, and it's now nothing more than a large spiral burrow for a number of roamers. Thankfully, at least some of the glowing crystals along the floor are still intact and functioning. 

The roamers inside the burrow seem a little more intelligent than the ones we ran into in the swamp. When they see us, they try to run and get help, and will bring in several packmates if allowed to escape. Rispy takes a nasty bite to the arm from one of them, which I patch up with a healing spell. 

Toward the center of the burrow, something starts itching at my brain. I grow twitchy and nervous, and want to escape. What is this? I try to focus upon my meditation exercises. Then it becomes clear that it's an external effect. Something is trying to attack my mind. 

I look to the others and see that they seem to be affected in the same way. Sirius has a haunted, uneasy look, like he just got out of Azkaban. Sparky is hiding shyly behind my leg. And Rispy looks about ready to bolt at any moment. 

"What is this?" I ask. 

"I don't know," Sirius says. "You feel it too?" 

"I want to get out of here," Rispy says, trembling. "I don't want to go any further." 

"Something is trying to trick us, to influence our minds," I say. "Stay strong. These thoughts are not your own." 

Rispy nods nervously, and we continue on. It's a constant effort to maintain my mental barriers against the creature's probing and attacks. When we reach the final room, Rispy can't manage to step inside. 

"I can't do it. I'm sorry," Rispy says. 

"Don't worry about it," I say. "We can handle this." 

In the center chamber, there's a strange green squid-like creature hovering in the middle of the room. Even as we approach, I can feel waves of hostile thought emanating from it. 

"A vlish," Sirius says. 

"Let's kill it," I say. 

As we're hammering the vlish with spells, I feel a sharp pain in my right arm. Something hit me from behind, and I'm bleeding now. I look back to see Rispy, with glazed eyes, aiming his thorn baton at me. 

"Rispy, fight it!" I say. 

"Finish it off quickly!" Sirius says. 

I throw another bolt of fire at the vlish. A jolt of pain rips into my leg. Rispy's hit me with another thorn. I stumble and fall over, bleeding. I try to focus some healing magic on myself, but that turns my attention away from the vlish. 

"You... won't control me!" Rispy growls. "I won't be your slave! _I won't!_ " 

I hear the sound of another thorn flying, and the vlish drops to the ground with a pathetic squeal. With that threat out of the way, I close my eyes and heal myself. 

"Lexen, are you alright?" Rispy says, running up to my side. "I'm so sorry. I couldn't... I couldn't..." 

"I'm fine, Rispy," I say. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault." 

"It was like the rogue was in my mind, making me do things I didn't want to," Rispy whimpers. "And the worst of it is that I _really_ felt like I wanted to, and that nothing would make me happier than to serve... That scares me, it really does." 

"I've seen great wizards fall victim to the Imperius Curse back home," Sirius says. 

"Like me," I say quietly. "I was forced to kill my friends, and I was _happy_ to do it. It was only after the spell was no longer on me that I realized how horrible it really was." 

Rispy stares at me wide-eyed. " _You_ were controlled like that at one point?" 

"On more than one occasion," I say. "Until I learned how to shake it off." 

Rispy is quiet for a long moment, before asking, "Can you teach me how?" 

"I can try," I say, smiling reassuringly at him. "Ask me again when we're at camp." 

We search the rooms behind the central chamber, and find some supplies and a couple of canisters. There is also a servant mind in the back room. It seems very weak, its tiny limbs hardly moving, and it barely looks up at us when we come in. 

"Welcome, Shaper. I am Control Four." 

"I am Lexen," I say. "What do you know about the rogues outside? Are you responsible for this?" 

"I apologize, Shaper," Control Four says. "I drew them here and tried to control them, but I could not, and they went rogue. I am glad that you have destroyed them. It shames me that you have had to do my work for me." 

"Was that the purpose you were created for?" I ask. "To control rogues?" 

"Yes, Shaper," Control Four says. "But it has been a difficult task, without the guidance of the Shapers. It has been a terrible time, however. The serviles have been growing more and more disobedient. I have tried to contain their rebellious thoughts as well as I could, but I have been so weak." 

I clench my fists at hearing this. This servant mind would seek to impose upon the free will of other beings? It should not surprise me, I know, but it anger me nonetheless. "Really," I drawl, not trusting myself to say more at the moment. 

"The serviles to the east, in Pentil, have been good and loyal still," Control Four says. "But in Vakkiri, they have become rogue. They develop new beliefs of their own, and no longer have faith in the Shapers. I have tried to eradicate as many of them as I could." 

"You've been trying to kill us serviles?" Rispy says softly, eyes wide. 

"I would not seek to destroy one who is clearly obediently following a Shaper," Control Four says. 

"Control Four," I say firmly. "You are _not_ going to eradicate _any more_ serviles." 

"Shaper, please," Control Four says. "It is my programmed purpose! I have followed the wishes of the Shapers as best as I could!" 

"Enough," I say. "I will not tolerate this behavior any longer. I will deal with the serviles myself, however I see fit. You, on the other hand, have done quite enough. It's time for this to end. Now." 

Control Four's eyes go wide in terror. "Shaper, what have they said to you? Have you been listening to the rogues? Have they been trying to turn you against your own kind? They would foment rebellion! Let me continue to aid your people!" 

"That is my decision," I say. "Do not question my authority." 

"I'm trying to protect you, you know," Control Four goes on. "The other Shapers would kill you if they were to discover that you have aided these rogues." 

"Have you gone rogue yourself, to question the command of a Shaper?" I say. "My orders are final, servant mind. No more!" 

The servant mind doesn't respond. I frown a little, and Rispy goes up and pokes at it. "I think you killed it," Rispy says quietly. 

"You actually talked it to death?" Sirius says. "That's impressive." 

"Thank you, Lexen," Rispy says. "After hearing what the servant mind said, I have to wonder how many of my people died because of its actions. At least Vakkiri is safe from Control Four's influence now." 

I give a nod, and then say, "Damn, I forgot to ask Control Four if it knew anything about why the island was abandoned." 

"The way it was holed up in here all this time?" Sirius says. "Probably didn't know anything anyway." 

"It still couldn't hurt to ask," I say. "Oh well. Let's go." 

We leave the spiral burrow, backtrack through the woods, and return to the servile camp alongside the road. 

"We destroyed a creation that was spawning rogues in the ruins to the northwest," I say. "We also cleared out the rogue creations from the spiral burrow to the west." 

"Thank you, Shaper!" says Forney. "We humble servants are most grateful for your assistance. Our job will be much easier now that the source of the rogues has been destroyed." 

I don't care to speak with him any further, so we go back into the building to rest. It's getting late, and I'd prefer to get some sleep before entering the Hills of Jars, as it sounds dangerous and will probably get me killed somehow. 

"So, Lexen, can you teach me now?" Rispy says. "About resisting mind control?" 

"As I said, I can _try_ ," I say. "It's a matter of shaking off any attempts to control you or mess with your mind like that. And the only way I know how to actually teach it is to attempt to control you while you try to shake it off." 

"Are you going to pull out the Unforgivables again, Lexen?" Sirius asks, frowning. 

"You can't argue that it's not for a good cause," I say. "That's how I learned it. Admittedly, I thought it was Mad-Eye Moody teaching the class, and not a Death Eater in Polyjuice, but it was still effective enough." 

"A Death Eater was imitating Mad-Eye Moody?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. "And casting Unforgivables on students? How did nobody notice?" 

"Considering the fact that he was _teaching_ them to me, _I_ certainly should have realized something was off," I say. "Anyway." I pull out my wand. I haven't used it for a while, and it feels really _good_ to be able to use magic without a wand, but there's still some things I can't do without it yet. "You ready for this, Rispy?" 

Rispy gives a terse nod. "Let's do this." 

I point my wand at him and say, " _Imperio_." His eyes promptly take on that mind-controlled look. _Kneel before me_. 

Rispy immediately drops to his knees, prostrating himself on the floor in front of me. 

"Fight it, Rispy," Sirius says. "You can do it. I know you can. You don't want to be anyone's slave ever again, right? You want to be a free being, don't you?" 

"Free..." Rispy whispers distantly. 

_Kiss my boots_ , I order Rispy. 

Rispy shudders for a moment. "No," he murmurs. "No! I will not be your slave!" His eyes snap back to normal. 

"Well done, Rispy!" Sirius says. "You threw it off!" 

"You did it a lot faster than I managed it," I say. "You must have a very strong will." 

"Maybe it helps that you're not a true Shaper," Sirius says. 

"You want to practice it a bit more?" I say. "Make sure you can shake it off in an instant?" 

Rispy nods. "Do your worst!" 

After a few more tries at it, Rispy can manage to shake off the curse the moment I put it on. "I'm impressed," I say. "Keep your wits about you, and no one will ever be able to control you against your will, Rispy." 

I go outside to relieve myself, but when I step out through the door, I almost trip over Forney standing outside in the shadows. 

"Forgive me, Shaper," Forney says quickly. "I did not mean to overhear--" 

"How long have you been standing there?" I demand. I've gotten out of the habit of casting privacy spells over every conversation. Maybe I should get back into that habit. I've grown complacent. 

"I do not understand what you are doing or why," Forney says. "I do not understand why you would wish to teach that other servile how to shake off your control. But it is not my place to question the wisdom of the Shapers. Although the outsider mage said you were not a true Shaper... I do not understand!" 

I glare at him. "Either question, and think for yourself, or do not, and have faith in me," I say. "Make your choice. I will not judge you either way, but be aware that the former will grant you more respect." 

"I-- I--" Forney says, looking at the ground. "I do not understand." 

Rispy pokes his head out of the door. "Then I'll make things simple for you. In the spiral burrow, a powerful rogue vlish managed to take control of my mind and forced me to attack Lexen with my thorn baton. He taught me how to defend against that sort of attack so that it won't happen again. If you'd thought to question instead of just stammering in wonder and doubt, you would have learned that." 

"Forgive me," Forney says quickly. "Forgive me, Shaper, for my doubts. I was confused." 

I give Forney a hard look. "Is this what I have to look forward to in Pentil?" I ask. "Constantly having to watch my back for serviles who are looking for any reason to think that I'm not doing what they think a Shaper is supposed to be doing?" 

Forney's eyes widen. "We would not dare--" 

" _You_ dared," I say. "I told you, make your choice. Questioning or blind faith. You cannot have it both ways." 

"I would not seek to question--" Forney begins. 

"Then I'm done speaking with you." I turn and stride off. 

When I return to the building, Rispy says, "You're getting kind of scary, you know. And your eyes are really glowing now. So is your skin, a little." 

"I noticed that," I say quietly. 

"Actually, it's kind of awesome to listen to you talk sometimes," Rispy says. 

Sirius smirks. "You went from being a scared little kid to having this almost manic confidence about you. I don't know that it's a wholly _bad_ change, but... I'm keeping my eye on you, alright?" 

I give a nod. "I'm starting to scare _myself_ sometimes. I'm really not looking forward to Pentil."


	10. The Road to Pentil

The next morning, we set out to cross through the Hills of Jars. Another Shaper ruin -- how much stuff did they build on this island? It seems sometimes like we can't walk for five minutes without stumbling over something the Shapers left behind. 

As it turns out, the Hills of Jars does indeed contain many jars. I head inside and start to look through them for anything interesting. 

"Don't tell me you're going to poke through every single jar in here," Sirius says. 

"There might be stuff in them!" I say. 

"If there were anything valuable in them, the serviles have probably taken it ages ago," Sirius points out. 

"Eh, you're probably right," I say. 

The place does look like it's seen a lot of traffic. There's even some bed pallets still laid out on the floor just inside the entrance. Were they left for anyone that might want to use them while coming through? Or did someone who was trying to pass through here just not make it? 

Down the corridor, we come upon a locked door. I call forth my unlocking powers to open it. I don't need to wave a wand, speak any words, or focus hard on the concept of freedom for all beings, or anything else. It's so easy, and it makes me feel _powerful!_ It was a good decision to come to this world. 

Thinking about the god-like power I could obtain on this island, with enough canisters, I stride forward into the next room ahead of the others. BOOM! An explosion knocks me off my feet, followed by a series of further explosions. I collapse in a flaming heap, wondering just what happened. 

* * *

I wake up in the small building at Forney's camp. Dead in the blink of an eye, and I have no idea what happened. That's a wonderful way to start the day. 

When we head into the Hills of Jars again, I'm much more cautious this time. I stop in the doorway and peer forward into the room beyond. In the light of the ubiquitous glowing crystals, I see a number of puffy mushrooms dotting the floor. Little antennae on top of them twitch about this way and that. And in the middle of the room, there's a servile corpse laying on the floor, a few feet from where I think I was killed. Even if I hadn't seen the mines, if I had been paying the least bit of attention, that should have been a tip off. I'm such an idiot. 

"You guys know what those things are?" I ask. 

"Ugh, mines," Sirius says. "Get too close and they'll explode." 

"I already figured that out the hard way," I say. "I didn't even notice they were there the first time." 

"Well, pay more attention, then, silly," Sirius says, smirking. 

"Hmm, so, stepping on mines got you killed," Rispy says. "Therefore, stepping on mines is bad. Don't step on mines." Rispy nods sagely. "A wise lesson to be learned from you." 

"Yeah, yeah, mock all you like," I say. 

I grab a rock from the ground and chuck it into the middle of the mines. It lands on the floor with a clink, and the mushrooms don't even notice it. I toss in another one, and manage to drop it right on top of one of the mines this time, to no effect. 

" _Smart_ mines," I say. 

I look around to see what's on the near side of the mines. There's a door off to the right. It's also locked, so I put in some magic to unlock it and step inside. The small room contains a strange device, a waist-high metal box with a switch on the top. 

"I'm betting that's a box to control the mines," Sirius says. 

"A reasonable enough assumption, I suppose," I say. I flip the switch, and the box emits a faint hissing sound. I go out to approach the mines carefully, and this time they don't explode when I get close. I even poke one of them with my toe, and it does nothing. "Safe now," I say to my companions, who are standing as far away from me as they can as possible and still see what I'm doing. 

"Have I ever told you that you're insane?" Rispy says as the others come up toward me again. 

"I don't think so," I say. "But you wouldn't be the first to express that opinion." 

We continue on past the mines. I'm much more cautious now, as this probably isn't the only patch of mines in this place. Considering that the serviles were, up until recently, using these tunnels as a shortcut between Vakkiri and Pentil, the mines must have been placed here very recently. 

"So, who do you suppose put those mines there?" I say. "Those outsiders again, perhaps?" 

"Blaming everything on them until proven otherwise seems like a safe bet," Sirius says. 

"We serviles certainly don't grow mines," Rispy says. 

Down the twisting corridors and past another locked door, I poke my head cautiously around the corner. There's some sort of plant or fungus or something, rooted into the floor in the middle of a large room. Moving tendrils on top of the plant twitch in alertness, as if waiting for something to come near. 

"I take it this isn't a friendly plant, either," I say. 

"First mines, and now turrets?" Sirius says. "Somebody was serious about protecting this place. Turrets will shoot thorns at enemies that come too close to them." 

"I'm learning a lot about this world from Sucia Island," I comment. "And its many, many horrible ways to die." 

There's another locked door on the near side of the room from the turret. I get it unlocked and head inside, and find another switchbox. A control box for the turret, I hope. I pull the switch, and a faint hissing sound comes from the box. I think it's putting out a cloud of spores or something, but it's hard to really see. 

I go back out into the big room and approach the turret. I walk right up to it and pat it on the, well, top. "It's safe," I say, waving to the others to come. "It's so nice of you guys to let me test out all of the potentially deadly situations." 

"We'd be crazy not to," Rispy says. "You're the one that isn't going to really die, and _I_ certainly have no desire to get killed." 

"You know, that's a _way_ more reasonable attitude than my friends in my last life," I say. "They were constantly getting on my case for doing dangerous things, and some of them even putting themselves in harm's way to try to save me from things I didn't even need to be saved from." 

"I'd rather you not go stupidly committing suicide when it's not necessary," Sirius says. "But it seems kind of silly to... wait, weren't you supposed to be at _school_? What in the hell were you _doing_?" 

"I was at school that was frequently hiring Death Eaters and possessed lunatics," I say. "The werewolf was the _least_ dangerous Defense teacher I had while there." 

"Oh, Dumbledore..." Sirius says, rolling his eyes and sighing. 

In the back of the room with the turrets, there's another locked door. It's protecting a storage room containing a canister -- which I go and use before even looking at the rest of the room -- and a handful of blue pods. 

"More essence pods?" Sirius says. "I suppose it's not a bad idea to have something to replenish your magical energy. Although I've never really noticed needing it much unless I'm doing extended, high-powered magic." 

"I think it takes more energy to do magic without words and a wand," I say. "Even with the canister augmentations. But I'd say that's a worthwhile tradeoff. Then there's also this weird essence stuff..." 

"How does that work, anyway?" Sirius wonders. 

"I'm not really sure," I say. "It's like there's this weird magical goo flowing through my body, and I can feel a little of it being used whenever I cast certain spells. And Shaping new creations, of course, forms them out of essence. Not that I've done that much. I picked up the ability to create a roamer back in the spiral burrow. I think I'll make one when we get to Pentil, assuming they have a Shaping hall there." 

Near the turret room, we find a room containing a servant mind. It is awake and alert already, and looks up at me brightly as I approach. 

"Shaper! I am surprised and pleased to see you. I did not think any more Shapers would come. I am Mind Pak. How can I assist you?" 

"Do you know why this island was abandoned?" I ask. 

"No, Shaper, I do not," Pak replies. 

"What was this facility used for?" I ask. 

"This was a storage facility," Pak says. "There are many useful and powerful items here that could assist you. Four shaped breastplates, one reaper baton, a pair of quicksilver boots, three augmentation canisters--" 

"I hope the canisters at least are still here," I say. "Because we certainly haven't run across anything else of value." 

"It was probably all looted by serviles years ago," Rispy says. "We wouldn't have touched the canisters, though." 

"Looted?" Pak says. "But recently, a human came to me, claiming to be an envoy of the Shapers, and ordered me to put up defenses to protect the supplies. Was this not in line with the wishes of the Shapers?" 

"No, it was not," I say. "Please deactivate the defenses immediately." 

Pak closes his eyes for a moment, and then says, "It is done. The way should be clear now. I apologize for this, Shaper. I am not good at analyzing character and personality, only at remembering information." 

"You're forgiven, Mind Pak," I say. "But do tell me about this human that you saw. Did you get a name?" 

"He had two well-armed guards with him, and he might have been angry," Pak says. "I did hear a name, but he ordered me to forget it and not tell anyone." 

"I'm a Shaper, and he was not," I say. "As such, my orders supercede his, do they not? Consider his commands to be hereby rescinded." 

"This is true," Pak says. "I'm not permitted to allow you to affect protected memories, but you can alter orders." He thinks for a few long moments. "The order has been canceled." 

"Now, what was the name?" I press. 

"The human who ordered me to place the defenses was called Trajkov," Pak says. 

"Trajkov," I repeat, frowning. "Thank you, Pak. You have done well. Goodbye." 

"Trajkov, huh," Sirius says. "That's definitely not a Shaper sort of name. It sounds almost... Russian?" 

In a cabinet near the servant mind, I find another jar of nutrients, and shove it into my bag. There's also a key. It probably unlocks all of these doors that I've been happily using magic on. 

With that, we head out to explore the rest of the facility, hopefully without any more obstacles now. I want to find those other canisters. They aren't far away, tucked away in the various rooms of the main part of the storage facility. Notably, one of them seems to make my body move a little more quickly. There's also a handful of other miscellaneous supplies. Notably, there are definitely no shaped breastplates, reaper batons, or quicksilver boots anywhere in the area. 

We emerge from the Hills of Jars and travel down into a wide, open valley. It's a lovely, pleasant place, the late afternoon sun streaming down over rolling green fields. But it's clear that not everything is well here. The crops have been torn up, and no serviles are working at the farms. This place has been hit by rogues as well, it seems. 

Off to the right, sheltered away behind some rock outcroppings, I spot an encampment of armed serviles. There are about half a dozen of them, and they seem exhausted, and some of them appear to be injured. Before even stopping to speak to the one who appears to be their leader, I go over to heal the wounded. 

"Shaper!" says their leader, prostrating himself on the ground. "I am Chesh Blade, of the village of Pentil. I had heard the rumors, but I had not dared to hope that you would actually come and help us!" 

"How can you have heard rumors when the road to Vakkiri has been blocked off since before I even arrived on the island?" I wonder. "I suppose a clever and stubborn person could find a way around and avoid the rogues and traps, though." 

Chesh looks at me in confusion, and then goes back to babbling about mighty Shapers saving them. He's extremely fatigued, and about dead on his feet. These serviles seem to belong to what serves as a sort of military for Pentil. 

"Status report!" I bark, dropping into the command mode I used a lifetime ago in Dueling Club. 

"Shaper, we are trapped and exhausted," Chesh says. "A horde of rogue creations blocks our way back to Pentil, in a strong defensive position, and we have not been able to pass the blockade." 

"Describe the enemy forces," I say. 

"We estimate that there are about ten thahds and half a dozen artilas," Chesh says. "This may not sound like much to you, but it has proved ruinous for us. But with your help, I am certain that we will be able to prevail." 

"We will reinforce your position and rest up here for the night," I say. "In the morning, we will deal with these rogues." 

"Yes, Shaper," Chesh says. "You have our eternal gratitude." 

"Sirius, can you put some wards up around the camp?" I say. 

"Aye," Sirius says, pulling out his wand and getting started on that. 

* * *

I wake up in the morning and take a look at the map. Whatever Sirius was doing last night, the positions of the enemy forces are clearly marked across the valley. They're in an entrenched position with some cover, and it'll be difficult to dislodge them, especially with that many artilas to rain acid down upon us. 

I grab a quick breakfast, and poke Sirius and Chesh. "We must discuss battle plans." 

"Right," Sirius says, looking over the map and also showing it to the serviles. "This is where the enemy forces are located. Thahds, artilas. We'll be awfully exposed on the main route coming in." 

"We can cast spells to bless and shield you, but that only goes so far," I say. "Not much help for it, though. It doesn't look like there's another way in, without circling around a very long way." 

"And the way our luck is going, the other ways probably have similar problems," Rispy says. 

"You see what I mean about luck?" I say, smirking. 

I stand up. "Chesh, are the serviles ready to go?" 

"We will be ready soon, Shaper, I assure you," Chesh says uneasily. "We just need to rest and recuperate a bit more." He doesn't look like he actually has any intention of moving willingly anytime soon, however. 

I narrow my eyes at him. "Tell me now so I can make preparations either way. Do you intend to come and fight with us or not?" 

"I... Shaper, we have taken many losses," Chesh says. "We are weak and tired. Please save us with your awesome powers, Shaper." 

I snort softly. "Fine. Stay here, then. We'll deal with this ourselves. Sirius! Rispy! Come on. Let's take care of this." 

The three of us leave the servile camp, Sparky trailing along behind us. We make our way over toward the enemy position as carefully as possible, taking out a few scouts along the way. 

We engage the rogue blockade. I can't get a clear shot at the artilas. I'm so focused on trying to get an attack through to take them out that I don't notice the thahd come up behind me and break my neck. 

* * *

I wake in the servile camp near Pentil. Well, that obviously didn't work out very well. Clearly, three people and one fyora is insufficient for breaking through the blockade. I get some breakfast and prepare for the battle again. 

"Chesh!" I say. "Get your serviles prepared to fight. On the double, now!" 

"Er, yes, Shaper," Chesh says. "We will be ready soon..." 

"Not soon," I bark. " _Now!_ I'm heading out there in fifteen minutes, and you had better be at my back when I go!" 

"But..." 

"Are you arguing with me, servile?" I snap. I'm not really angry with him, but if feigning anger and barking orders is what's needed to get them moving, then so be it. 

"No, Shaper, of course not," Chesh says, clearly terrified. "We'll be ready. We'll be ready to fight for you, Shaper!" 

When my group heads out this time, we're backed by the small group of servile warriors wielding swords and batons. Hopefully this will make the difference. 

The serviles are disorganized, like they've never fought a real battle in their lives. They engage the thahds, which leaves the artilas free to take them out with acid. Half of the servile squad is down within moments. I try to give them fire support, protective and healing magic, but it's not enough. Then a glob of artila acid strikes me in the back, and I drop to the ground, screaming in agony as I die. 

* * *

I wake again with a gasp. Death by acid is never fun. I mean, more than usual for dying, at any rate. What's more, I feel drained of magical energy between all the power I poured out in the fight and the dying. I pull out an essence pod and drain down the thick, bitter liquid, and feel mana buzzing within me again. I really wish I'd had these in my last life. I must learn how to make them sometime. 

This isn't working. I'm going to need another strategy. I pull out the map and peer over it, looking at the lay of the land and the position of the enemy forces. 

"We're too exposed going in there," I say. "Those artilas will make quick work of us if we're not careful." 

Chesh doesn't seem especially reassured by my words. "But I'm certain that you will be able to use your awesome Shaper powers to prevail, right?" 

I snort softly. "Sorry to offend your Obeyer sensibilities, but Shapers can die just like anything else." Except this fake Shaper that comes back from the dead, at any rate. 

Sirius comes over to look over the map as well. "I don't see any easy way in there. It would be nice if we had some air support, though. But we don't have access to anything that can readily fly at the moment." 

"Hmm," I say. "Perhaps we don't need to. I suggest that we flank the enemy from here." I point to a hill on the map. "We get up on top of this hill over them, and rain down attacks of our own from there." 

"That hill?" Chesh says, frowning at it. "But there's nothing but sheer cliffs from the side of it we can get to from here." 

"You've got a mage and a Shaper with you now, though," Sirius says. "You do keep going on about these awesome powers of the Shapers, don't you?" 

"Oh," Chesh says, sheepishly. "My apologies for doubting you, Shaper." He bows his head toward me. 

"Let's get ready and move out," I say. "If we can avoid being spotted by the enemy scouts, we will be able to set up a position on top of the hill without drawing their attention. I've healed you all up and given you a full night of rest, so everyone should have no excuses about being ready." 

"We don't have enough thorn batons for all of us," Chesh says. 

I look them over, and pull out three more batons from my bag, and pass them over to the serviles. "There, now you're all properly equipped. Are we ready to go now?" 

"Yes, Shaper," Chesh says reluctantly. He's clearly not very happy about having to go out and fight, but he's out of excuses and can't deny a Shaper, or at least someone he believe is a Shaper. 

We head out toward the hill in question, quickly dispatching a couple thahd scouts along the way to prevent them from raising an alarm. When we read the hill, I see that Chesh is right about it being a sheer cliff on this side. Using purely conventional means, it would take some time, effort, and probably ropes to climb up this way, making the prospect a little less practical. But we have access to magic. 

Sirius transfigures some sticks into a long ladder leading straight up to the top of the bluff. "Up you go," he says. 

Rispy and I climb up first, followed by the serviles. Then Sirius levitates Sparky up before climbing up himself. 

We move to the north end of the hill, where we can see the blockade before the Pentil gates. Beyond, the city of Pentil stretches out. It's much larger than Vakkiri, and perhaps was built in the island's primary administration facility. Near the edge of the hill, some rocks jut out, looking like they could provide adequate cover from any artilas that manage to spit at us. 

"Take positions," I say quietly but clearly. "Be ready. Focus fire on the artilas first." 

We arrange ourselves along the rocks, batons and magic at the ready. There's no indication that the rogues have spotted us. I arrange for each of the serviles to attack a different artila to start off with. 

"Fire!" I command. 

Thorns and fire rain down upon the rogue forces. Most of the artilas die rapidly in the first volley, not being particularly durable creations. One of them, however, manages to nail a servile with its acid spit. 

"Finish them off!" I bark, rushing over to heal the wounded servile as quickly as I can. 

He's badly burned, but my magic is able to negate the effects of the acid and heal his injuries. "Thank you, Shaper," says the servile, bowing to me. "Your humble servant is eternally grateful to you." 

By the time I'm finished, the others have wiped out the remaining rogues. The thahds didn't stand a chance, since all they could do is punch things, and they couldn't find a way to the top of the hill fast enough to do anything to us. 

"Shaper," Chesh says, approaching me. "You have saved us with your awesome powers." 

"I've saved you with some vaguely useful powers and a fair bit of wit," I say. And dying twice in the process, but there's no need for him to know that. 

"Still, we must return to Pentil now that we are able to," Chesh says. "You will be more than welcome among us loyal Obeyers." 

"Go on," I say. "We're right behind you." 

Chesh heads down the opposite side of the bluff and toward the entrance to the town of Pentil. 

Once they're out of earshot, Sirius approaches me and asks, "So, how many times did you die today?" 

"Twice," I reply. 

"Ouch," Sirius says. 

"Have I mentioned that I really hate acid?" I say. 

"And I really hate the attitude of the Obeyers," Rispy says. "All that bowing and scraping. Have they no dignity?" 

"At least you're another servile," I point out. "They won't bow and scrape to _you_." 

"Look, I'll totally not blame you if you wind up getting pissed off and going on a rampage and killing them all," Rispy says. 

"We'll try to avoid that happening just yet, though," Sirius says with a smirk. "We might still need them, after all." 

"Yeah," Rispy says. "I mean, they _are_ still serviles, even if they're misguided ones. I'm not exactly _eager_ for anything bad to happen to them. Just... you know what I'm saying?" 

"I know exactly what you mean, Rispy," I say, chuckling. "All life is precious. Even if it's _really annoying_ life. But if something is actively threatening or hindering you, well... Sometimes these things must be done. I don't intend to raise a hand against the Obeyers right now, but it might definitely become necessary or prudent in the future." 

"Right now, though, let's go and meet them," Sirius says. "And prank the Shaper-loving daylights out of them."


	11. Freedom Haters

We walk into the large fortress that makes up the servile settlement of Pentil. The reaction of the serviles here is dramatic. They gape at me in awe, as if disbelieving their very eyes. Some of them even drop to their knees at the sight of me. None of them dares to look up at my face. It really disgusts me. 

"No dignity whatsoever," whispers Rispy beside me. 

One of the guards approaches us and says, "Shaper, you honor us with your noble presence. In the name of the Obeyers, we welcome you to Pentil. We are quite happy that you have finally returned to us so that you might rule over us once again. We are eager to serve." 

"Where can I find the servile that leads this settlement?" I ask. 

"If you're looking for Leader Rydell, you can find him in the large building in the center of town," the guard says, pointing helpfully. 

"Thank you," I say, heading off in that direction. I have no doubt that I will get very annoyed with this place very quickly, so I'd best expend my patience at the top to start off with. 

I go inside the building that the guard pointed me to. There's a large hall with a nice, new wooden floor, with a number of chairs arranged in neat rows. The sort of arrangement for a group to look to a single leader. At the head of the room, there is an aged servile who looks at me emotionally as I approach. He seems awed and filled with wonder, but also nervous and afraid. Of course. I don't think he ever seriously expected the object of his people's devotion to actually return in his lifetime. 

"Shaper, I welcome you with open arms to Pentil. I am Leader Rydell, of the Obeyers, the only sect of serviles on this island which has remained obedient to your rule." 

"My name is Lexen," I say with a touch of annoyance. "If you must address me by that title, then at least call me Shaper Lexen, and not just 'Shaper'." Why did I ever agree to pretending to be a Shaper? 

"As Shaper Lexen wishes, so it shall be, then," Rydell says, giving me a gracious bow. "How my I serve you?" 

I grate my teeth. At least it's something. "Tell me about this settlement," I say. "Have you been having many difficulties with rogues of late?" 

"This is the largest and most prosperous settlement of serviles on Sucia Island," Rydell says. "Our devotion has made us strong and allowed us to thrive. We have, indeed, been having difficulties recently. Please speak with Mickall Blade if you wish to know more of the situation, as he is the one in charge of the defenses of Pentil." 

"Can you tell me why this island was abandoned?" I ask. 

"I fear I do not know that, Shaper Lexen," Rydell says. "But we keep many records here, that may provide a clue to the knowledge you seek. Please speak with Learned Dayna in our records hall." 

"And do you know anything about the outsiders on this island?" I ask. 

Rydell looks a little nervous. "I have heard rumors. About sinister outsiders seeking to encroach upon the secrets of the Shapers. But there is nothing substantial that I can tell you of that at this time. I apologize, Shaper Lexen." 

"Very well," I say. "We're done, then." I turn to leave. 

"But, Shaper Lexen," Rydell stops me. "Do you not wish to hear about how we have obeyed you in your absence? About the beliefs of the Obeyers?" 

I spin around on my heel and fix him with a hard glare. "What do you want, Rydell?" 

Rydell cringes, looking as though he were just struck. "I apologize if I seem out of line, Shaper Lexen," he says meekly. "I had been hoping that when you returned, you would use your mighty Shaper powers to aid us and support us over the disobedient, rogue serviles of Vakkiri and Kazg..." 

Sirius puts his hand on my shoulder. I take a deep breath. Snapping at Rydell isn't going to do anyone any good. 

"I have things to do," I say. "And no interest in wasting my time discussing philosophy today. Either obey the Shapers, or do not. Obey me, or do not. I see no need to _discuss beliefs_ about it." 

I turn and storm out of the room, followed closely by Sirius and Rispy. 

"And to think, he didn't even say anything _really_ aggravating," Rispy says quietly. 

"Foolish, foolish, foolish," I mutter. 

"A true Shaper wouldn't _care_ what serviles believe," Sirius says. "They'd simply punish or destroy the disobedient ones." 

"I don't want to talk to anyone else," I grumble. "I think that's a Shaping hall over there. Let's split up. See if you guys can find out anything of interest. You can find me in there." 

"Alright, Lexen," Sirius says. "Take it easy. And don't let them get to you." 

Sirius and Rispy head off, and I go into the Shaping hall with Sparky. This building appears to be in good condition, well-maintained by the serviles living here. They might have even been using it for something. They couldn't be trying to master the Shaping arts themselves, of course. Serviles can't shape. But at least the essence pools at the end are still intact. 

I go over to one of the Shaping platforms and get to work. I draw forth the magical essence from my body and give form to it, following the design imprinted upon my very being. Bones, organs, muscles. Four legs, scales, a powerful jaw. Soon, the roamer is complete. It looks up at me expectantly, waiting for orders. 

For some reason, roamers always reminded me of dogs. "I think I'll call you Fido." 

I look up, to see that a servile working in the laboratory has been watching me with great interest. I don't blame him, considering he's never actually seen Shaping at work, especially given the extreme reverence his sect has for the Shapers. 

"Greetings, Shaper. I am Learned Jaffee, of the Obeyers." 

"What do you do here?" I wonder. "What's this building being used for?" 

"We have been attempting to tame rogue creations," Jaffee says. "We have had some success with fyoras, by exposing them to essence, beating, and training. They have an built-in obedience to the Shapers, and we have been attempting to reach that." 

I can't really say much, considering that I've been killing all of the rogues I've come across. It didn't even occur to me to try to do anything else with something that's clearly attacking me and doesn't even seem intelligent. 

"I see," I say neutrally. "The sign outside said you are a sage. Is there any knowledge you can share with me?" 

"I am certain that there is," Jaffee says. "But I cannot share my wisdom with someone who is not an ally of the Obeyers. I cannot risk aiding those who may not be in line with the true will of the Shapers." 

I clench my fists and cast him with a cold gaze. "The true will of the Shapers," I repeat icily, with barely contained rage. I knew that speaking to anyone here would be a mistake. 

"I apologize, Shaper," Jaffee says, giving a bow toward me. "But what we have heard about you seems to indicate that your beliefs do not fall in line with what we expected of the Shapers, given what we knew of them last." 

I grab Jaffee by the neck and slam him against the wall in a rage. "I am sick and tired of you fucking serviles and the way you've been acting! Who are you to question what a 'true Shaper' is and is not? I do not have the time nor patience to deal with this-- this-- ornk shit!" 

"Shaper," gasps Jaffee. "Please... please have mercy... I am your humble servant..." 

I drop him roughly to the floor. "If there is something that you know that would be useful to me, servile, do not _dare_ to keep it from me." 

"Of course... of course, Shaper..." Jaffee says, rubbing his throat. "Don't hurt me..." 

"Then tell me what you know," I say. "About why the island was abandoned. About the canisters. About the outsiders on the island. _Tell me_." 

Jaffee steadies himself against the wall, slowly rising to his feet. "Yes, Shaper. I will tell you anything you wish to know. I live to serve." He looks at me closely. "Shaper, you have been using the canisters, haven't you?" 

"I have," I say evenly. 

"It is clear that they are changing you. They are rewriting the very code of life within your body, making you into something different," Jaffee says. "I cannot say what the end result of this transformation might be. But Sucia Island was Barred for a reason. The Shapers discovered something that they believed no one should ever learn about. They deemed this knowledge dangerous, and forbade anyone from gaining it again. You should be cautious." 

"I will do as I will," I say. "Do you know anything of the outsiders?" 

"Yes," Jaffee says. "I know something of them." He seems hesitant. I fold my arms across my chest and look at him until he continues. "One moment." He goes into a back room and returns with an armful of papers. "We discovered these near one of the bridges to the east. We have been able to decipher a bit of their language, and learned some by eavesdropping on them..." 

So Rydell was outright lying to me when he said that he couldn't tell me anything. I narrow my eyes. "Teach me what you have learned. I must discover who they are and how they came to be here, and what their purpose is in this place." 

"Yes, of course, Shaper," Jaffee says. "I am happy to serve..." 

My boiling rage cools as I listen quietly to Jaffee's language lesson. It occurs to me, when I am calmer, that I did something terrible here. Jaffee chose not to obey me, but I forced him to do so anyway with the threat of violence upon him if he did not comply. And I can't even apologize to him about it. I'm ashamed of myself. 

Some hours later, I'm sitting with Jaffee learning what I can of the foreigners' language, when Sirius and Rispy return. 

"Ah, you're back," I say. "Did you learn anything?" 

"The bridges to the east have become blocked recently," Rispy says. 

"Why does that not surprise me?" I say, smirking. 

"There's someone in Kazg named Toivo who keeps good records of things," Rispy says. 

"Learned Dayna also offered to pay for any Shaper records we might come across," Sirius says. "Although I'm sure she didn't mean to imply stealing it from Toivo, of course." 

"There's an outpost down in Thorny Wood that's besieged by 'wicked' serviles from Kazg," Rispy says. "And there's been a problem with vlish in the forest directly to the south, and cryoas in the woods to the east." 

"And there's a marketplace where you might be able to sell all the junk you've been collecting," Sirius adds. 

"Sounds like we'll be busy around here for a while," I say. I stand and nod to Jaffee. "I'll be back for more lessons later." 

"Of course, Shaper. I am pleased to be able to serve you." 

I head out of the building with Rispy and Sirius. "Jaffee had some information about the outsiders' language, and I've been trying to learn it. This is going to take a while, though, and his information is far from complete." 

"If we're planning to solve all of their problems, we might be here for a few days," Rispy says. "Oh, they also set aside a room for us. Well, for you, but you're not going to throw us out into the barracks." 

I snicker softly. "Lead the way." 

"I see you've got yourself a new roamer," Sirius says. "Did you give this one an equally horrible name?" 

"His name is Fido," I say. 

"Fido," Sirius repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Really." 

We stop by the marketplace to sell off all of the stuff I don't want, and then head to the room set aside for us. It seems to be the most lavish quarters that the Obeyers could arrange for on short notice, and was meticulously cleaned before we arrived. We settle in, and I pull out my wand and cast a privacy spell. There's no way I'm being careless enough to be overheard again. 

"Alright, I'd really like to get moving on to Kazg, but I can't in good conscience leave Pentil to the rogues," I say. 

"Besides, there might be more canisters tucked around somewhere," Sirius says with a smirk. 

"We could always help out those Takers hiding in the forest," Rispy says. "Much as I can't believe I'm actually suggesting that." 

"I think we'll start with the vlish," I say. "That seems the most immediate and simple situation. Go in, kill the rogues, wipe out the spawner if there's one there, suck up any canisters that happen to be laying around..." 

"Naturally," Sirius says, smirk broadening. 

Rispy looks to Sirius, and says, "Are we going to plan out some pranks to play on the Obeyers?" 

"Tonight will be reconnaissance only," Sirius says. "Get a feel for the lay of the land, flesh out the map, figure out where to strike for maximal effectiveness. And then tomorrow, the _real_ fun begins." 

I look at the floor thoughtfully. I really need to relax more, I think. I'm getting all wound up already, and it's not good. I don't want another outburst like today. I'm just glad Learned Jaffee wasn't hurt. I say barely audibly, "I'll go." 

"What's that you say?" Sirius say. "I don't think I heard you." He gives a crooked grin. 

"I'll go," I say more loudly, looking up at him. 

Rispy beams at me. "It'll be loads of fun." 

"If I join in your pranking, do I get to have 'Stormseeker' on the map, too?" I ask, smirking. 

"I'll think about it," Sirius teases. 

I take a quick nap. In the middle of the night, we slip out of our chambers and skulk about the sleeping village. Sirius keeps a close eye on the map as we go, so that we can avoid the patrols of the night guards. 

"Back room of the records hall," Sirius whispers as we slip inside the building. "What's in there?" 

I go in and look around. There's some cabinets against the wall, and I open them up and rifle through the contents. "Worthless Shaper records. Did you expect anything else?" 

"Grab some of them, will you?" Sirius says. 

"What are we going to do with them?" Rispy asks. 

"I have an idea..." Sirius says with a grin. "You'll see." 

I shrug and shove a handful of them into my bag. We move on. The Shaping hall is deserted at the moment, and Sirius leads me over to a back door that I didn't even notice when I was here before. 

"So, what's in here, I wonder?" Sirius says quietly. " _Alohomora_." The lever rattles a little, but stubbornly doesn't open. "Bah. I was constantly running into locks that were too strong for that spell in the Shaper lands. I was hoping I wouldn't keep encountering that _here_ too." 

"It was probably made by the Shapers anyway," I say. "Let me try it." 

"You opened a cell door in _Azkaban_ ," Sirius says. "I daresay you can open anything." 

I call forth my unlocking magic to release the chains on the locked lever. It doesn't seem to be working at first. I focus some more. I focus my thoughts. Freedom... _Freedom for all beings!_ The chains fall free with a clatter. So, this really is the same spell after all. For all that I don't need to use a wand or words, it still works in exactly the same way. 

Inside the room, there's an intact canister amidst a clutter of broken shards. I let out a gleeful giggle as I rush over to it and use it. I don't know if I could stop using them even if I wanted to. 

From there, we creep around the edges of the fort, setting the boundaries of Pentil on the map. "Hmm," Sirius says. "Aside from the locked room in the main hall, there's one other area we can't seem to get into. Aha, here's the door. Lexen?" 

I focus again, and open this door just like I did the last. Inside, there's a larger storage room, containing another canister! Once I've used that, I glance around at what else is in the area. Some miscellaneous equipment and supplies, including a fairly nice baton. 

"Leave it," Sirius says as I go to collect the stuff. "It would be pretty obvious if we took everything." 

"It'll be pretty obvious that I've used the canisters, too," I say. 

Rispy quietly swaps his baton for the better one on the table. "I wonder if they can even get in here?" Rispy wonders. "You'd think they'd _use_ some of this stuff. Or maybe they're saving it as an offering for the next 'true Shaper' that comes along, whatever that's supposed to mean." 

"Fine, take what you like, if you're actually going to use it," Sirius says. "It'll be doubly obvious if we start selling stuff we stole from them at their own market." 

Rispy collects some of the thorns laying around in storage. I turn to head for the door. 

"Wait," Sirius says. "Patrol out in the corridor. Wait for it to pass." 

"I'm glad those doors close automatically, but I hope they don't notice that the chains are on the floor at the moment," I comment. 

I go over to watch the map with Sirius. The guard moves along down the corridor, not even pausing outside the door. It seems he didn't notice. 

We head out of the storeroom, locking it again behind us with a quick Locking Charm, and head for the center of the village again. 

"So, what's that last area?" I wonder. 

"Looks like Rydell's private chambers," Sirius says. "He's in there, sleeping probably, and there's a guard posted outside that doesn't move." 

"Think we can get in there tonight?" I ask. 

"Certainly," Sirius says. "Though we'll need something to distract the guard or get him out of commission for a little while." 

"Stun him and erase his memory?" I suggest. 

Sirius snorts. "I'll let that one slide, since you're an amateur." 

"It seems like a perfectly practical solution to me," I say. 

"But it has no _elegance_ to it," Sirius says. "Besides, I'm rubbish at Memory Charms." 

"Maybe something that'll put him to sleep, so he thinks he just nodded off at his post?" Rispy suggests. 

"Better," Sirius says. 

"Cause a ruckus that they'd have no reason to think we're connected to, so that he'll have to go and investigate?" I say. 

"There's other guards that can do that," Sirius says. "If he's any good at his job, he won't leave his post unless the village is under immediate attack from rogues or something. And maybe not even then." 

"Getting the whole village on alert for a rogue invasion would be counterproductive, and probably wake Rydell up, too," Rispy says. 

"Point," I say. 

It would be very easy to just use the Imperius Curse on the guard. But I don't mention that to Sirius. I'm not going to start leaping at using Unforgivables again. I'm disappointing Sirius enough with my canister abuse. 

"I could pretend to be relieving him," Rispy says. 

"He'd have to be an idiot to fall for that," Sirius says. 

"I could order him to stand aside for my awesome Shaperness," I say. 

"No," Sirius says. "Let's just go with Rispy's original suggestion of putting him to sleep. Often the simple solutions are best." 

We slip inside the building. Careful to avoid being noticed, Sirius points his wand at the guard by the door. The guard promptly slumps over, asleep. I go over to the lever and get it unlocked. Charging up the unlocking spell to open these doors uses up a fair bit of energy. 

Inside, there's an L-shaped corridor with two rooms in the crook of it. Rydell appears to be asleep in the far room, so we enter the near one first. This one contains a few books. 

"Rydell's journal," Rispy murmurs, glancing through one of them. "He certainly whines a lot. Oh, everything is so horrible here! I wish a Shaper would come and tell me what to do!" 

The book I'm looking at, however, seems to be about Shaper mechanisms. The Shapers left behind a lot of stuff on the island, and the serviles have been forced to learn whatever they can about it without a lot of intricate knowledge to start off with. Since I know very little about Shaper mechanics myself, this would be a very valuable book to sift through at length. 

"Find something interesting?" Sirius asks. 

I hold up the book, and say, "Can we put something in here to make it not obvious that this was taken, so I can read it more?" 

Sirius looks over at it. "Mechanics, huh? Hmm, seems unlikely that they'd be checking on it constantly. _Geminio_." He waves his wand, and a book that looks just like it at a glance appears. "They won't notice unless they actually look inside and see that the pages are blank." 

I grin, and stuff the mechanics book in my bag for the moment. We then move on to Rydell's bedroom. He's definitely fast asleep, and our spells are keeping him from noticing us no matter how much noise we make. 

I go over and look through his dresser. Inside, I find a pair of gloves sewn with runes, and to my surprise, I actually recognize some of them from my Ancient Runes class in my last life. These seem to be runes used to increase the potency of spells used in dueling. 

"Rydell certainly has no use for these," I mutter. "He can't even cast spells." 

"He might still notice them missing," Sirius says. " _Geminio_. He won't, however, notice that this fake pair doesn't actually do anything." He puts the duplicates in the dresser. 

I put the gloves away in my bag as well for the moment, and we leave the room. I can slip them on when we leave town, and nobody will ever notice. 

Once we're back in our room, I ask, "If you can duplicate items like that, why don't you use it on stuff we're selling to get more gold? Or on Rispy's ammunition?" 

"It only makes a copy that has none of the properties of the original," Sirius says. "That's only really useful if the original had no special properties to begin with. And it can't duplicate living things. Which most Shaper technology is. Including Rispy's thorns." 

"I see, I think," I say, frowning. "I'll take your word on that. You know that sort of magic better than I do." 

I pull out the mechanics book to look through it a bit more, but Sirius puts his hand on my arm. "If you want to stay up all night reading that, you don't get to complain about being tired when we go out to kill vlish in the morning." 

"Right," I say, smirking. "It can wait, I suppose." I put it away again, and go to bed. 

* * *

The forest south of Pentil is unnaturally quiet. There's a strange feeling in the air, like an itching in my mind. It reminds me of that creature we fought in the spiral burrow. Yes, that was a vlish, Sirius said. And these floating red squid things infesting this forest are also vlish, although not nearly as powerful of ones. 

We kill some of the vlish and start looking around the woods. In a small building, I spot the alluring bluish light of a crystal canister at the far end of the room. I race straight across to it without hesitation. BOOM! Didn't notice the mines. Crap. 

* * *

I wake up in my room in Pentil late in the morning. I am such an idiot. Alright, I need to get my canister addiction under control enough that, at the very least, I'm not blindly rushing off at the first sight of one and failing to notice the fact that I'm stepping on mines. 

We eat some breakfast and return to the vlish-infested woods. Killing some vlish along the way, we make our way back to the building in question. I peer inside, restraining the urge to rush in and use the canister immediately. There are some very large, deadly mines placed directly around the canister. 

"You know," Sirius says. "This is the first time I've seen you _not_ rush in the minute you see a canister." 

"I did that the first time," I say. "Got blown up for my trouble." 

Sirius smirks. "I should've known." 

"Now, how to get at that without getting blown up again..." I say. 

"I'll leave that to you," Sirius says. "We're going to kill some more vlish." They wander off, and I send Sparky and Fido along with them. I can hear the shrieking sounds of dying vlish from nearby not long after. 

I pull out my wand and point it at one of the mines. " _Wingardium Leviosa_." The mine, however, remains firmly rooted to the ground. No, this is easier than that. " _Accio_ canister!" 

The delicate crystal canister rises into the air and zips toward me, and shatters against the wall directly to my left. 

"Fuck!" I watch, trembling, as the precious glowing liquid oozes down the stone in rivulets. Lost, gone, wasted. I feel like crying. I try scraping at it, but while it tingles a little, it doesn't seem to do anything anymore. It must need the canister as a delivery mechanism. 

Some while later, I hear Sirius's voice behind me. "We cleared out the vlish and killed another spawner. Did you get that canister? Oh... never mind." 

I blink for a moment and look up at him. How long have I been standing there, stunned? Damn it, what is this doing to me? "Let's go," I say shortly, and deliberately turn to head back to Pentil. 

After another session with Learned Jaffee that I force myself to sit through, I hole up in our room for the rest of the day, carefully studying the servile mechanics book. The serviles have learned a surprising amount about thorn batons, living tools, mines, locks, levers, and whatnot. I'd rather be reading a book on magical knowledge. I know almost nothing about how Shaper magic actually _works_. But this is a good start, I suppose. This sort of knowledge could be very useful during my time in this world. 

"Lexen, are you alright?" Sirius says, approaching me later in the evening. 

"I'm fine," I say. 

"You're always fine," Sirius says. "I don't know how long you were standing there just staring at those broken shards. I don't like seeing you like this, you know." 

I sigh. "You're right, and I need to get it under control." 

"I won't argue that," Sirius says. "Using the canisters is your choice. But make sure that it's still a _choice_." 

I give a nod. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks, Sirius." 

Sirius grins at me. "Now, come along. We need you for this prank to work, and we need to get it done before dark." 

He hands me a pile of Shaper records. A glance through them indicates that they have obviously been modified in a rather creative manner. 

"Who is 'Seuss'?" I wonder. "And why are we slipping his writing into the Shaper records? And more importantly, _where did you even get this?_ " 

"Magic," Sirius says, waggling his eyebrows. "And Dr. Seuss was a very wise Squib from my world. I imagine if the serviles actually read this stuff, they'll learn a lot!" 

"If you say so," I reply. 

"Hmm, this would be pretty pointless if they didn't read it beyond copying it, though," Sirius says. "You're going to in there and order them to copy and disseminate this. Top priority." 

"Do you really think they'll listen to that?" I say dubiously. 

"You're a Shaper," Sirius says. "And would they deny the words of Shaper Seuss?" 

I smirk, and say, "Alright, let's see if I can convince them." 

With the writings of "Shaper Seuss" in hand, I head over to the records hall. It's late, but there's still a servile tending to the place and sorting through some pieces of parchment. 

"Shaper Lexen! I am Learned Dayna. I am quite pleased that you have decided to come and visit us personally. How can I assist you?" 

"I have some Shaper writings for you," I say, laying them out on a table. "But these aren't just any records. These are the writings of the great Shaper Seuss. His wisdom has long been thought lost to my kind! You must make this your top priority. Copy these, and be sure to send copies of them to all the serviles!" 

Dayna's eyes widen at my words. "Oh... I have never heard of this Shaper Seuss..." 

"You haven't?" I say. "Your loss, then. He was a great, wise Shaper whose writings revolutionized how we look at various things! I had not realized that he had spent time on Sucia Island, but I was quite delighted to stumble across a store of his writings hidden away, safe from the ravages of time. This is the find of the century! These writings must be preserved! I could not bear the scorn of my colleagues if such a valuable find were to be lost because of me!" 

"Well, I'll certainly see what I can do, Shaper Lexen," Dayna says. 

"Drop everything else you're working on!" I say, flailing about. "This is what's important! You've done very well with your work here, but this is top priority!" 

"Yes, of course, Shaper Lexen," Dayna says, bowing her head to me. "We will redouble our efforts and preserve these valuable writings. And we will make them available for everyone to read, if that is what you wish." 

"Excellent!" I say. "You Obeyers certainly know how to obey. You're very obedient. Well, I should be off, now. I have a long day of slaying rogues tomorrow, to protect my loyal servants from harm!" 

Once back in our room and under privacy spells, Sirius bursts into laughter. "Lexen, I never knew you could lay it on so thick." 

"I was using my 'pretending to like Quidditch' act that I used around my Quidditch fanatic friends," I say. "They got annoyed when I didn't even pretend. But I don't think that act ever actually _convinced_ anyone before." I smirk. 

"Yeah, that was just pure ham," Sirius says. "Mmm, ham." 

I snicker. "Real acting is more subtle, but there was no way in the Abyss that I could talk about the sort of nonsense you wanted me to convince them to copy with a straight face otherwise." 

"Hey, Dr. Seuss was a wise, wise man," Sirius says. "Also, his books annoyed my mother to no end." 

"I'd imagine," I say. "Now, do you have anything else planned for tonight, or can I get some sleep now?" 

"Sleep," Sirius says. "Then we can see how this pans out." 

"Kill more rogues tomorrow," Rispy says, grinning. 

"I don't think we're in danger of running out of rogues to kill anytime soon," I say.


	12. Explosions

The next day, we wipe out a number of cryoas and destroy no less than _three_ spawners situated not far outside of Pentil's east entrance. 

"And the Awakened thought they had it bad," Rispy says. "Vakkiri was only suffering minor inconveniences. Pentil was outright besieged by enemy forces on all sides." 

The day after, we head south into the Thorny Woods. We discover a locked building tucked away in the trees, and after opening the door, I frown at the objects I see on the floor. I've read about them in the servile mechanics book. They're little spheres on tiny legs, a red one and a green one. Box mines, they're called, as distingushed from the mushroom mines. The book said that if you were quick enough, you could dart forward and disarm them, and described the means for doing so. The red ones explode, and the green ones pop out a creation. 

Time to try out my new skills at mechanics, then. I rush up toward the red box mine and try to figure out how to disarm it. I fail to figure it out in three seconds and it explodes in my hands. 

* * *

I wake in my room in Pentil. Alright, maybe it would be best to practice on box mines that _aren't_ about to blow up in my face. 

Upon returning to the building in the forest, I examine the box mines more carefully from a distance. I toss a rock into the building experimentally, to no effect. They're too smart for that sort of trick, too. 

Hmm, they didn't actually blow up for a few seconds after I got close. I try stepping into the room briefly and waving my hands about, and then ducking outside the door as the mine starts ticking. The sound of an explosion, sounding almost too small for how easily it killed me, echoes inside the room. 

That just leaves the green box mine. I go inside and try to disarm this one, since at least if I fail to do so, it won't be immediately fatal. I can't quite manage to trip it quickly enough, and a fresh thahd bursts into existence before me. We dispatch the thahd without a problem, and look into the inner room. 

There's a canister at the far end of the room. I resist the urge to rush forward immediately and look around to make sure there are no more mines. I _will_ be in control. Then, in a more dignified manner and not like a child on Christmas morning, I go over and use the canister. 

"Well, that's better than going crazy over it, at least," Sirius says. 

We head back toward the road and continue on. We come upon a small guard post with a single servile warrior and four tamed fyoras. 

"Greetings, Shaper. I am Demel, of the Obeyers. I had not dared hope that you would come to assist me at my post." 

"What is the situation here?" I ask. 

"There is a group of rogue Taker serviles holed away in this forest," Demel says. "I am keeping watch over them to make sure they can't harm Pentil or flee back to Kazg." 

"What are they doing here?" I wonder. 

"I do not know, but I am certain that it is nothing good," Demel says. "I'm sure they'd like nothing better than for you to turn on your own kind and slay me in order to let these rogues run free. But you'd never do something like that, would you, Shaper? You've come to aid me with your mighty powers and destroy these foul rogue serviles." 

We go aside into the nearby building, on the pretense of resting for a bit, and put up a privacy spell. 

"You know, when I suggested helping the Takers here, I wasn't really thinking that we might have to kill a servile," Rispy says. "I've never killed another servile before..." 

"We don't have to kill him," Sirius says. "We can just stun him and drag him into this building long enough for the Takers to go." 

"We'll probably have to kill the fyoras, though," I say. "No great loss, there." 

"I suppose," Rispy says. "I'm just afraid that we won't be able to put off killing serviles forever." 

"We'll do what we can to avoid it," I say. "But we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. If someone's trying to kill us and cannot be talked down, killing them is perfectly justified." 

Sirius quietly puts Demel out with a non-verbal spell. The fyoras, however, seem to sense that their 'master' is under attack, and charge at us with fire and teeth. We quickly take them out, then move Demel's unconscious body into the building and seal it with a Locking Charm. 

The forest is littered with box mines of both types. We stay on alert, and avoid the red ones for now, letting me attempt to disarm the green ones until I've figured out how to do it properly. It takes some tricky work, but I can manage to actually disable the mines after a while. Then I start, very carefully, trying my hand at the red ones. I need to be quick, but I'm definitely starting to get the hang of this. My companions, however, don't entirely trusting to my skills yet. They take cover every time I go to disarm a red box mine. 

"It's alright!" I assure them. "I've got it now! See, I don't have any burns or anything on me." 

"That's because your robes are fireproof and you could heal the damage from the one small one that went off," Sirius points out. 

"Hey, at least I'm not trying to disable them, pack them up, and set them up somewhere else," I say. "Although that _could_ be pretty fun..." 

"Another time, perhaps," Sirius says, smirking. 

Further into the winding paths of the forest, we come upon a burrow that might have once been an old Shaper ruin. There are armed serviles guarding it, who heft their weapons upon seeing us. Our groups eye one another warily for a moment, as if wondering if the other side is going to attack. 

"Do we look like Obeyers to you?" Sirius says. 

Upon hearing the commotion, another servile comes out of the fort. From the way the others seem to defer to him, I would guess that he's their leader. He seems to be a little bit mad, but he does not attack, and speaks to me. 

"You, Shaper! I am Ezog of Takers! You tell me, why we not slay you now?" 

"We've taken care of the Obeyer guards outside," I say. "You are free to go as you choose." 

Ezog stares at me for a long moment before my words sink in. "You help us? Good! You save us! We go soon. We tell Takers what you do." He pauses and looks us over, then adds absently, "Come in if want." 

"Alright," I say, stepping inside to look around. 

The serviles are quickly packing up to leave, but Ezog approaches me again after a minute and hands me a key. "Taker reward help. Shaper artifact in side room. Yours now." 

"Thanks," I say. I probably didn't _need_ the key to get into the room in question, and I could have just grabbed it after he left, but it doesn't hurt to be polite. 

After unlocking the way into the side room, I see that there's a canister inside, calling me temptingly to come and use it. I have no desire to say no, but I will walk calmly toward it to use it. I grin broadly as I realize that it just gave me the ability to create my very own cryoas. 

"Shaper like reward?" Ezog says. "Good! Takers have much power. We trapped here long time. Tired. Hungry. You help. We reward help." He glances around. "I no expect Shaper help Taker. Good surprise, though." 

"I don't know that I'll ever be able to get used to hearing that sort of talk," Rispy says. 

"Why do you talk differently than the serviles in Vakkiri and Pentil?" I ask. 

Ezog snorts. "We no dumb. We smart like them. We no talk Shaper. We talk servile. Choice. They want be like big Shapers. We not. We no want be like Shapers." 

I give a nod. "I think I understand," I say. "I can respect that." 

"Well, _I'm_ not going to start talking like that," Rispy says. 

Ezog looks at him. "Who you? You Awakened? From Vakkiri?" 

"I'm Rispy. I'm from Vakkiri. I would have once called myself Awakened. But I don't think I want to call myself that anymore." 

"Smart," Ezog says. "Talk how you choose. You free. I no care." 

"We should be going now," I say. "I wish you well on your journey." 

Ezog gives a short nod, and we leave. We hole up at the guard post for a while, watching over Demel and waiting for the Takers to go. I spend the time looking over the mechanics book some more. It takes the Takers about an hour to pack up and go, but they finally leave. 

Once they're gone, we revive Demel. She seems a little alarmed, but she doesn't realize that it was Sirius who attacked her. 

"What happened?" Demel asks. 

"The Takers attacked," Sirius says. "They slew your fyoras and slipped away while we weren't looking." 

"I didn't even see them come," Demel says, looking crestfallen. "I have failed in my duty." She prostrates herself before me. "Please forgive me, Shaper. Those dangerous rogue serviles escaped, and it's all my fault!" 

"Relax, Demel," I say. "It wasn't your fault. Go on back to Pentil where it's safe." 

"Yes, Shaper," Demel says. "Thank you." She hurries away. 

Once she's out of earshot, Rispy says, "I really hope we did the right thing here." 

"It was _your_ idea," Sirius says. 

"I know," Rispy says. "Still. I've believed the Takers were bad for most of my life. We tolerated them and traded with them a little, since they were still serviles after all, but we always treated them like, I don't know..." 

"Pariahs?" I say. 

"I'm not even sure what that means," Rispy says. 

"Piranhas?" Sirius says. 

I snicker, and Rispy just looks confused. 

"We didn't trust them," Rispy says. "They were different. We didn't agree with them. We believed different things. And now, well, I'm not sure what to believe anymore. It's not easy." 

"I understand," I say. "Let's get back to town." 

We head back to Pentil. I Shape myself a cryoa, and name it Frosty. I have another language session with Learned Jaffee, and then some more studying mechanics to do. Tomorrow, we plan to hit Northbridge and see what the situation is there. I wonder if the Takers will even be able to get back with the bridges still blocked, or if they'll just have to find another place to hole up. 

The next day, we head due east to Northbridge. It's a fair bit of a walk away from Pentil, and we get there only to find that it's covered in living mushroom mines. Frowning a little, I look around a bit more on the near side of the bridge. There's a building protected by more mines, but these ones point their antennae away from us when we get close. According to my book, this is what mines are supposed to do to tell you that it's safe to pass. 

Inside the building, there is what appears to be a servile tinker, amidst a clutter of various Shaper tools and broken devices. "Welcome to my humble home, Shaper. I am Lahlee. I scavenge and repair things." 

"Do you know where the mines on the bridge came from?" I ask. 

"Oh, the outsider humans put them there," Lahnee replies. "They are strange people, who speak a strange language. I watched them come by. Now they've blocked Northbridge, and no one can pass." 

"Tell me about these outsiders," I say. 

"I spied on them a bit," Lahnee says. "One of them was their leader, I think. I couldn't understand them, but I heard what I think was a name that they called him. Trajkov." 

I give a nod. "I've heard mention of him before. Do you know any way I might be able to cross the bridge?" 

"One of the outsiders dropped something, like a baton of some sort," Lahnee says. "I did not know what it was for. You can find it in the back room if you want to see. The mines only explode when serviles try to go by, but not other creations like ornks." 

"They must be set to trigger only for humanoids," I say. 

I go into the back room and look around for the baton Lahnee mentioned. It's sitting in a cabinet on the far end of the room, but it looks broken, like it was stepped on. I wonder if it's like a portable version of those switchboxes back in the Hills of Jars. It would be very foolish to put so many mines around with no way to control them, but I know better than to assume that people will always do things that aren't foolish, or that things that may seem foolish at first don't actually have a good reason for them. 

I bring it out to Lahnee. "I don't know how to repair this," I say. "But I'd like to take it with me and give it a try. Would you like some compensation for it?" 

Lahnee shakes his head. "There's nothing I can do with it, and if you can find a way past the bridge, that will be more than reward enough. If you can't, it's worthless anyway." 

"Thanks," I say. "I'll see what I can do." 

I grab some tools and tinker around with it a bit. I pull out my book and do some comparisons, but there's nothing exactly like the baton mentioned. Lahnee even gives me a few suggestions. I'm awfully careful to avoid damaging it further, but I can't quite manage to get it fixed. Finally, I give up for the moment and put it away in my bag. 

Northbridge being a wash for now, we head back to Pentil. Sure, we could probably find another way over the river with one sort of magic or another, but that would hardly be helpful in opening up through traffic for the serviles. We can check out Southbridge next and see what's going on there. It's further away, however, so we want to get started on it fresh tomorrow instead of trying to get there today. 

The next day, we pass through the Thorny Woods again and, after some traveling, we come upon a dead and dry land with an acrid smell in the air. An obelisk on the road nearby states, "Dead Land", and "Tombs". 

"I'll bet the Shapers killed this area with some experiment gone awry," Sirius says. "There's no way this is a natural desert canyon. There's _nothing_ alive here." 

The echoes of rogue creations can be heard from further down the canyons. It sounds like roamers. 

"Almost nothing," Sirius amends. 

We continue on, and I spot roamers moving along through the dead gorges. They aren't the familiar orange ones. These ones are a vivid red color. 

"Sirius," I say. "What are _red_ roamers?" 

"Not sure," Sirius says. "I've never seen that particular color before." 

"They probably breathe fire or something," I say, shrugging. 

With so many blind turns in the twisting, narrow valleys, a pack of red roamers manages to ambush us and surround us. How annoying. Well, I'm sure we can dispatch them readily anyway. Fido, trying to protect me, bites the nearest one of them hard. But instead of merely dying, the body of the red roamer seems to tear itself apart and erupt in a fiery explosion. This starts a chain reaction, as the roamers pop one after another. In moments, they are all dead, and so are we. 

* * *

I wake in my room in Pentil, and just have to blink. What sort of sick and twisted Shaper would design something so fucked up as _exploding roamers_? Someone who obviously doesn't give the slightest thought toward the value of life, despite the fact that they shape it and are responsible for it. I'm horrified and disgusted by the thought of using living beings as walking spellbombs. 

I sigh a little as I prepare for the trip down to the Dead Land Tombs again. Is that really a name, or just a couple markers that happened to wind up on the same sign? Whatever. 

On the way back toward the Tombs the second time, I say, "We're going to have to pass through a dead canyon filled with exploding roamers." 

"And this is an improvement over the mines how?" Sirius wonders. 

"We will just need to be especially careful to take them out from a distance and avoid getting ambushed," I say. 

"Sounds like fun," Rispy says, grinning. 

"I didn't think even the Shapers would be mad enough to create something that just _explodes_ ," Sirius says. "Besides the stupid mushrooms, anyway. Who cares about mushrooms? Roamers are actually kind of cute. When they aren't trying to bite your face off or spit acid at you, anyway." 

We arrive at the Tombs again. Picking off the roamers from a distance is easier said than done, but with a good bit of caution, we are able to make our way through the area. The tombs themselves seem to be sealed shut with no obvious way to open them, which is a pity as I wouldn't mind doing a bit of grave robbery. 

Then we come to an ornate entrance with Shaper statues and a smooth, tiled floor in the entryway. _This_ building isn't sealed. 

"Maybe some sort of administration area for the Tombs?" I wonder. 

"Did you ever fancy yourself a tomb raider?" Sirius wonders. 

"We should take a look around if we can," Rispy says. "They might have valuable goods that they have no use for any longer." 

Inside the building, we come across some creatures that are shaped like thahds, but seem to be slightly incorporeal. They're tougher to kill, but they still die like anything else, however. 

"What were _those_ things?" I wonder. 

"No clue," Sirius says. "That seems like an awfully weird thing to Shape. And not like any ghosts I've ever heard of, either, assuming a thahd could even leave a ghost..." 

There's a book on a pedestal listing the names of all of the Shapers interred here. There's also a note at the end. "Hmm," I say, reading it. "They wanted to place defenses in the tombs to discourage people from studying at them... Studying? That's weird. You don't suppose they were buried with _books_ , were they?" 

"I suppose it would make sense," Sirius says. "Put all of their life's work into a book to bury them with." 

My eyes light up at the thought. "This place might be more valuable than I had thought, then. Let's see if we can find a way to do some grave robbery." 

After looking through the administration and preparation building a bit more, we come upon a cabinet in the back with an amulet marked "Caretaker". I don't know how that will get us into the tombs, but it couldn't hurt, so I take it along with us and approach the one door within the facility itself that wouldn't open. Sure enough, it slides down at my presence, allowing access into a room with a canister and an empty sarcophagus. The canister seems to make me more physically adept. 

"So, the amulet will open the doors to the tombs," Sirius says. "Alright, let's go see what we've got, then." 

The defenses in the tombs appear to be green box mines. Excellent practice, I think. I quickly go in and disarm the mine in the first tomb, and we go over toward the sarcophagus. There's a compartment at the foot of it containing a book, and a quick look through it indicates that it seems to be about healing craft. 

"Excellent," Sirius says. "Let's collect them all and then see what we've got." 

After clearing out the Tombs, we look through our bounty. No less than eight books on a wide variety of kinds of magic, including several on Shaping. This is incredible. I never though we'd be so fortunate as to stumble across such a wealth of knowledge, especially not from _tombs_. 

"Why don't we head back to Pentil for the night?" I say. "We can hit Southbridge in the morning. I want a chance to look through these for a little bit in a safe environment first." 

"Me, too," Sirius agrees. "I've never actually gotten my hands on a _Shaping_ book before. Those are guarded better than diamonds." He chuckles softly. "Also, it would be nice to give the Obeyers one last goodbye prank before heading off into parts unknown." 

It's late in the afternoon by the time we get back to Pentil. I stop in for one last language lesson with Jaffee, but it's pretty apparent that I'm straining his little knowledge, as we're just going over what he already knows to make sure I've got it down. Then, it's back to my room to look through the books I'd left in Sirius's care during that. 

"These are great, Lexen," Sirius says. "Unfortunately, they aren't really much of a starting point. They're obviously meant for someone who has at least a minimal amount of knowledge in these areas. But I'm already starting to manage to piece some things together." 

"And unfortunately, I don't actually _know_ much about Shaping," I say. "The canisters make it all instinctual, like a dragon breathing fire. Heh, I'm turning into a magical creature..." 

"Hopefully, you're not turning into a Dementor," Sirius says. 

"Not much danger in that, I don't think," I say. "For one thing, they don't glow. Am I glowing?" 

"You start glowing much more, and we won't need _Lumos_ to find our way around at night," Sirius says. 

"What do you have planned for tonight's prank?" Rispy says, leaning over curiously. 

Sirius chuckles, and hands me the book to put away. "Alright, listen up, because this is going to be a big one, and it will be _awesome_..." 

It takes the better part of the night to set up, and I have no idea _how_ Sirius manages some of this, but in the end, we get it done. Rispy helps with the setup and distracting the guards, and I do some of the spellwork that requires more power than skill, but it's Sirius who does most of the work. 

When the first rays of sunlight come over the eastern horizon, we're sitting on the roof, tired but grinning. The serviles wake up and come to the marketplace, and their eyes widen as they see the hoops, the flying Quaffles, Bludgers, and the glittering Snitch darting from place to place. Little wooden players on tiny broomsticks face off against one another, one team in green and the other in red. 

"Go Gryffindor!" Sirius says. 

"Go Slytherin!" I counter. 

"I can't help but feel that I've missed the joke here," Rispy says, quirking a grin. 

"Best prank ever," Sirius says. 

We climb down off the roof. We had really been intending to set out sometime this morning, but as it is, we'll probably be arriving at Southbridge by this afternoon. 

Leader Rydell approaches us, looking very confused. "Shaper Lexen, what is this?" 

I grin at him. "I couldn't tell you." 

Sirius snickers softly. "It's a mystery, isn't it?" 

"It's... it's... I don't know what it is," Rydell says. 

"Well, we've had a nice stay in Pentil, but we'll be leaving today," I say, yawning. "This afternoon." 

"We definitely did not stay up all night setting up the mysterious thing in the marketplace," Rispy says, smirking. 

"Call it an act of the Shapers," Sirius says. 

"I do not understand," Rydell says. "But we shall revere it always... Just like we will the writings of the wise Shaper Seuss that you were fortunate enough to uncover." 

I grin broadly and say, "You do that. Farewell, Leader Rydell." 

I turn and head off to our room, barely managing to get inside before bursting into laughter. 

"Totally worth it," Sirius says.


	13. Breaking

"Normally, I wouldn't want to start a trip so late into the day, but at the moment, I don't think I really care," I comment as we're walking to Southbridge. 

"There's supposed to be a Taker outpost somewhere on the far side," Rispy says. "Hopefully we'll be able to find that place to rest for the night. I never thought I'd be hoping to find Takers..." 

"The ones I've met so far don't seem quite so crazy as the Awakened and Obeyers would have you believe," I say. "Admittedly, that's not very many." 

"I never thought I'd wind up seriously considering being a Taker," Rispy says. "But if that's the path you decide upon, then I will follow you." 

"You don't have to, you know," I say. 

"I know," Rispy says. "But that's my choice. The Obeyers would want to hold fast to an ideal that they barely understand. But in my eyes, it's a far better thing to choose to be loyal to one person. No contradiction, no confusion. I'll happily deal with whatever consequences might come of that." 

"You know I don't want to be served by slaves," I say. 

"Exactly," Rispy says. "And that is why I follow you. That, and it's great fun. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, you know. I've never felt so... alive." 

I sigh softly. "Whatever I might think, I cannot deny you that choice." Maybe some part of the servile's inbred desire to obey is making this feel like the right thing to do for him. Be that as it may, I did not force him into anything, and he still chose to follow me, even after he learned things that might have made many balk. and much as I might be uncomfortable with the idea of slavery, I do appreciate having loyal friends. 

We pass through the Tombs area and arrive at Southbridge. I carefully survey the situation from a safe distance. The bridge appears to be guarded by a number of those thorn-shooting plants I remember from the Hills of Jars. 

"Turrets," Sirius says. "And a lot of them. Lovely. At least they're less resistant to spells than mines." 

"I don't suppose there's any hope of spore boxes to control them nearby," I say. "Let's see about clearing this bridge." 

Between the combined efforts of two mages, a servile, and my three creations, the turrets are destroyed one by one. The way across the bridge is clear. 

On the far side of the bridge, we run across a patrol of humans. Finally, we come face to face with the mysterious outsiders. "Me of Sholai," says one of them. "Sholai land! You go. Go now." 

I imagine that they probably speak English about as well as I speak Russian. Assuming it's actually Russian that they're speaking. Still, I attempt speaking to them in their own language anyway. "I seek Trajkov." 

They start to babble out some things I can't catch. I have to hold up a hand and stop them. 

"I no talk Sholai good," I say, slowly and deliberately, hoping that I'm stringing the words together in a reasonably coherent way. 

They say some more things that I can't understand, and say the name Trajkov several times. 

"I seek Trajkov," I repeat. "Let I pass. I no want fight." 

I still can't quite grasp a word they're saying, but they seem to be letting me pass. They continue on, smiling. 

"I was wondering if we were going to have to kill them for a moment there," Sirius says. 

"Those outsiders are weird," Rispy says. 

There's a warren nearby guarded by some more turrets. It looks like it might be serving as a small fort for these Sholai. In the back of it, I find a canister, as well as a box containing some papers. I spend a few moments trying to decipher the language. 

"Orders from Trajkov, it looks like," I say. "So far as I can tell, it seems like he's telling them to kill the old Shaper and let the young Shaper pass." I frown deeply. 

Sirius does as well. "There's an actual Shaper on this island? Oh, this could be bad." 

I shove the papers into my bag and we continue on. 

We pass through a forest occupied by what appears to be packs of roamers being herded around by vlish. There's also some strange pillars and glowing green runes on exposed patches of ground, but we don't spend much time to stop and investigate this right now. We pass by a mysterious circle of standing stones. When I get near the large stone in the center of the circle, I feel a little uncomfortable, but I'm not sure why. 

"It's like Stonehenge," Sirius murmurs thoughtfully. "A powerful place of old, long-forgotten magic." 

There's an overgrown ruin that might have been an old Shaper waypost. From the looks of things, it was also used as a waystation by the serviles until it was overrun with rogues. There's even intact healing and essence pools. 

"It's getting late," Sirius says. "Maybe this would be as good a place as any to hole up for the night." 

"I suppose it'll work as a temporary headquarters," I say, sighing. "I miss the tent." 

The building also contains a book that looks to have been protected from the elements. It appears to have been the research journal of a Shaper who was studying the native tribes of Sucia Island who lived here long before the Shapers came. I'm not very interested in this, and after briefly flipping through it, I pull out my own books to do some studying. 

The next day, we set out through the forest. After some traveling, we arrive at a place a sign proclaims is named Crystal Burrow. 

"I'm guessing that there must be a burrow with crystals in it," Sirius says dryly. 

The road ahead is blocked by a large number of deadly mushroom mines, making the most expedient way past straight through the burrow. Crystal Burrow is a beautiful cave system, a complex maze full of shimmering crystalline structures. It would be almost peaceful if it weren't for the thahds lurking all over the place needing to be killed. I find two canisters tucked away in the burrow as well. One of them even gives me a new spell -- the ability to magically increase something's speed. 

Near the spot where the road is blocked by mines, we come upon a switchbox that I go over and flip. "Hopefully this will deactivate those mines," I say. "I don't fancy having to make wide detours every time I happen to want to walk past that road." 

The burrow opens up further down the road from the minefield. Not far from the exit, I stumble upon the body of one of the outsider humans. Rispy goes over to do a quick search of the body, and finds some papers that he hands to me. 

"More orders?" I say, raising an eyebrow and skimming them a bit. I still can't glean much, although I recognize their word for 'Shaper', and it seems to be talking about two different Shapers. More than that, I can't make out yet. I put them away with the others. 

The afternoon is growing late by the time we've made our way back to the road, so we decide to stop for the day and put up a makeshift camp just inside of the burrow. Some time to rest up and read before continuing on into unknown dangers is never a bad idea. 

We move on in the morning. Some ways past Crystal Burrow, we come upon a marshy fen. The plants around us look sickly, and the air smells of decay. The marsh is swarming with more packs of roamers being led around by vlish. More rogue creations to be destroyed. 

As I walk through the marshland, I'm suddenly overcome by a wave of sickness. I double over, overcome by a wave of nausea. I look down at my hands, and it seems like my body is definitely glowing, even visible in the bright afternoon sunlight. Underneath my skin, it seems like my muscles are crawling of their own accord. What are the canisters _doing_ to me? 

"Lexen?" Sirius says, reaching over to put a hand on my shoulder. "Are you alright?" 

"I don't know," I reply honestly. The canisters might be giving me strength and confidence, but that's matched by a healthy dose of doubt. I have to wonder what I would be thinking if Sirius weren't here. Would I even doubt for a moment my use of the canisters? Would I even stop to wonder and try to control myself? 

Further within the marsh, we come upon a ruined building with a canister gleaming invitingly inside. I ignore the bodies near the canister and go up to use it. 

I put my left palm on top of the canister as usual, and the glowing material comes out to change me. But something is wrong. It isn't a pleasant tingling sensation, but _burning_. It's extremely painful. I'm screaming. I feel like my entire body is being burned by acid from the inside out. I collapse into merciful death within moments. 

* * *

I wake with a gasp. What in the Abyss just happened? I never thought that a canister could do that to me. Was there something wrong with it, I wonder? Or have I just used too many of them and I'm starting to get negative reactions from more of them? 

Still wondering about it, we return to the marsh, fighting our way past the rogue roamers and vlish again, and make our way over to the ruined building. 

This time, I resist the urge to go up and use the canister right away. I'm more wary. I am in control. I take a look at the two bodies near the canister. Outsiders, judging by their clothing and appearance. They both look as though they died in great pain, with a burn mark on their right palms. 

"That doesn't look good," Sirius says. "You see where they're burned? It's a good thing you _didn't_ rush forward to use it right away." 

"I did," I say. 

Sirius snorts softly. "Dying again without mentioning it?" 

I shrug. "I wasn't sure what had caused it. But I guess this canister is bad. I was a bit concerned that I'd used too many canisters or something. But I wasn't the only one to be killed by this one." 

"Worried that you wouldn't be able to use anymore?" Sirius says. 

"The thought had crossed my mind," I say. 

In the midst of the marsh, we come upon a small building with a sign outside proclaiming it to be the home of Clois the Sage, and that all are welcome here. Curiously, I go inside to see this servile sage. 

Clois is a very old female servile, although I have to wonder when I started being able to so easily tell the difference between male and female serviles. Her eyesight seems to be nearly gone, but she welcomes us in to speak with us. 

"You are Clois the Sage, I take it?" I say. 

"That is what I call myself," Clois replies. "Although I really know very little. All of the factions of this island come to me for advice, and I hope that you have come for the same." 

"Perhaps. My name is Lexen, and these are my friends, Sirius, and Rispy." I say. "What do you think of the different factions? I've spoken a bit with some of them, but I'm still not sure what to think." 

"They all have their own answers, and their own flaws," Clois says. "They each believe that they are the only ones who are right, and yet they each merely see the same truth from different angles. As do you, I am sure." 

I give a nod. There is truth in that. "I would not presume to think that I'm right, when I don't even have all of the pieces of the puzzle yet. I benefit only from an outsider's perspective, and a little more knowledge on what the world outside of this island is really like." Even if that knowledge has come second-hand, through Sirius, I know I can trust his word on things, at least. 

"Perhaps, in admitting your fallibility, you are more right than any of them," Clois suggests. 

"What do you know of the history of the island?" I wonder. "Why it was abandoned?" 

"Even I was not alive back then," Clois says. "I concern myself more with the present, but some of that history affects us even today. Still, there is some that I have learned. Of the Shapers who created something here, and then fled from their own creations. I know a little of the secrets that the Shapers rejected." 

"Tell me about it, if you will," I ask. 

"The Shapers here learned about the scrolls of life," Clois explains. "The code of life is written within each being upon the tiniest of scrolls, copied a multitude of times within ourselves. The Shapers learned to read the scrolls of life, and to rewrite them." 

"Scrolls?" Rispy repeats. "Inside of us? That seems like a really weird thing to say." 

"That is merely my own interpretation," Clois says. "They called them something else. The Shapers called them 'genes'." 

"And these canisters we've been finding," I say. "They've been... rewriting these scrolls? These 'genes'?" 

"Indeed," Clois says. "You have been gaining power from them. But be wary. Who knows how far these changes might go? Where will they stop? Will you still be yourself when they are through with you?" 

That's a fear that I had not really thought too much about. The last thing I want to do is lose myself. Am I really in danger of that? "I am still in control," I say. 

"You are now," Clois says. "How long can you maintain that control?" 

"I'm starting to wonder," I say. 

"Maybe it would be best to stop while you are still capable of wondering," Sirius says. 

There's a flash of unbidden anger within me, at both of them, for their suggestions. I look at the ground. I will not be angry. Not at Clois, and especially not at Sirius. I am in control. I do not choose to be angry at them. 

"You seem like a very wise servile, Clois," I say evenly. 

"Perhaps," Clois says. "I was an Obeyer once. I worshipped your kind. But I spent my life learning, and I think I came to understand some things better." 

"What did you learn?" I ask. 

"I learned that you Shapers are human," Clois says. "And, although you Shapers claim to have made us serviles from nothing, I believe we were human once, too. I believe that we were altered in order to better serve the Shapers. When it comes down to it, the mind in my head is no different from yours. That we are no less intelligent or capable than you. I do not believe we should have to serve you." 

I have to give a small smile, and relax a little at that. "Of course you shouldn't," I say. "I do not know whether it is right what you say, about having been modified by the Shapers from whatever you were before, but it would not really surprise me. But I would never think of you as anything less than people." 

"You bear more wisdom than I would have expected from a Shaper," Clois says. "Perhaps coming to this island has helped you to see the world through different eyes?" 

"Perhaps," I say vaguely. 

Sirius snorts in amusement, but says nothing. 

"We should go," I say. "We're bound for Kazg, and the day is still young, but we still have a ways to go." 

"Farewell, Lexen," Clois says. 

Further on through the forest, we come upon a servile standing guard outside of a small outpost. "Shaper! I had not heard there was a Shaper on this island. You are most welcome here! You should go and speak with our commander, Doge. He would be most pleased to serve and help you in any way possible." 

I groan inwardly. I was looking for a Taker outpost, but it seems like I have found an _Obeyer_ outpost instead. "Of course," I say shortly, continuing on into the outpost. I'm not going to turn up my nose at a place to spend the night, even if it's not what I'd hoped for. 

These serviles have set up a decent outpost in some of the island's ubiquitous Shaper ruins. There's even intact healing and essence pools, which I appreciate after having to fight through so many rogues. 

I find the outpost's commander. "Greetings, Shaper. I am Obeyer Doge. We have been stationed here by the village of Pentil in order to keep the roads clear. I had never dreamed that one of your lofty kind would come before us. I place all of us at your disposal." 

"You hadn't heard I was on the island yet?" I say. "I suppose travel really has been pretty blocked off lately." 

"Well, I'd started to hear rumors months ago, about the Shaper who came to Kazg, but I'd never dreamed that I would actually get the chance to meet you for myself," Doge says. 

I frown a little, glancing aside to Sirius and Rispy. We haven't been here nearly that long, never mind having gotten to Kazg yet. He must be talking about the "old Shaper" that the Sholai orders mentioned. 

"What have you heard?" I ask. 

"I wouldn't want to waste your time with false rumors," Doge says. "But I heard something a while ago from a servile who was fleeing Kazg. He said something about the Takers wanting to find something called the Geneforge." 

"Geneforge?" I repeat, raising an eyebrow. 

"I do not know what that might be," Doge says. "Perhaps I heard it wrong, or he heard it wrong. I don't know. But that is what I have heard, Shaper." 

I shake my head a bit. "We will be staying at your outpost tonight." They're Obeyers, so no use in asking permission. It's not like they're going to refuse, anyway. "Where would you suggest for us to sleep?" 

Doge looks a little worried. "Oh, this is but a humble outpost. We do not have anything here that would suit the needs of a Shaper. But you should sleep in the best rooms, and we will move out of the barracks if it pleases you." 

I sigh a little. "No, we will sleep in the essence pool room. Is anyone else using it?" 

"Ah," Doge says. "We have been feeding the essence pools. I hope they are still alive." 

"They're fine," I say. "I would like to be near them." 

"No one else is currently using that room," Doge says. "We can move in some bed pallets if you like--" 

"That won't be necessary," I say. "Just be certain that no one disturbs us unless the outpost is under attack by more rogues than you can handle yourselves." 

"Yes, Shaper," Doge says. "We live to serve." He bows toward me. 

My group heads into the pool room, and Sirius gets the place warded up and transfigures some furniture out of bits of trash. Time enough to get some studying done. Sirius isn't nearly as into studying as I am, but he's still quite curious about the Shapers' powers. Rispy, unable to do any magic himself, spends a bit of time flipping through the mechanics book instead. 

"You know, Sirius, I get this feeling that you wouldn't be nearly as eager to read and learn this stuff if it weren't for the fact that the Shapers have forbidden you to do so," I comment. 

Sirius snickers softly. "Hey, it's not like I was exactly a slouch in school. I was no Ravenclaw, by any means, but a lot of the stuff I learned comes in very useful for pranks." 

"Of course," I say, smirking. "You learned in order to do things you weren't supposed to be doing. And now that you've been told you can't learn the Shaping arts, you're all over this stuff." 

"I'm curious, alright?" Sirius says. "I don't exactly have any interest in becoming a Shaper or anything. But at least it beats going crazy on canisters." 

"I'm not crazy," I reply. "Well, much." 

Sirius smirks. "You're as crazy as I am. Without the excuse of Azkaban. And your eyes glow." 

In the morning, as I'm preparing to leave the outpost and continue on toward Kazg, I hear shouts from the serviles outside. 

"Shaper!" Doge shouts in. "Sorry to disturb you, but there's a large group of rogues attacking us! We beg of you to please aid your humble servants!" 

It's very early in the morning, barely light out, and Sirius and Rispy aren't awake yet. I send out my creations to help the serviles, and I nudge Sirius and Rispy to get them moving. 

"What's going on?" Sirius asks. 

"Attack," I say. "Come on." 

We rush out to aid the serviles with fire support. I cast my new spell upon them, hastening their movements, and hurry to try to heal the ones who have been injured. The enemy force appears to consist of a large number of bluish-gray artilas, headed by an enormous humanoid with dark reddish-brown skin. 

"Battle alpha!" Sirius shouts. Well, at least I know what to call the thing now. "I'll take care of you. You guys get the artilas." 

Many of the artilas get cut down quickly with batons and swords, although some of the Obeyers are badly burned and require healing magic. Then, the battle alpha grabs Sirius by the neck and hurls him against the wall of one of the buildings. 

"Sirius!" I cry, rushing over to him to make sure he's alright. 

"Nngh," Sirius mutters. I can tell immediately that something is broken, and focus healing magic on him. Behind me, the defenders redouble their efforts to take down the enemy force, but I'm not really paying much attention to them anymore. I'm more concerned about Sirius. The battle alpha could be stomping up behind me to break my neck for all I care right now. 

"Sirius, are you alright?" I ask, leaning close over him. 

"I'm fine, Lexen!" Sirius says. "See to the others!" 

By his urging, I turn my attention back toward the battle just in time to watch Rispy plant a thorn firmly in the battle alpha's neck. The giant finally tumbles to the ground, dead. Two of the Obeyers have been killed, and Sparky lies motionless on the ground, the fyora's scaly body burned badly by artila acid. 

With the enemy forces all dead, I frantically turn to healing those who can still be saved before it's too late for them. 

Then, once that's done, I turn to the body of my loyal fyora. "Oh, Sparky..." I murmur, kneeling beside him. I doubt many Shapers weep for the loss of their creations, but there are tears in my eyes now. 

It's never easy to lose a friend, but it seems all the worse to lose a pet. A friend chooses to go along with you and understands, on some level, what the risks might be. But Sparky was a creation, obedience bred into him by many generations of Shapers. He could not have disobeyed me if he had wanted to, even if he really understood what that might mean. 

That's why I have no compunction about killing rogue creations. They don't really understand what they're doing. All they do is mindlessly attack anything that their addled minds might perceive as an enemy. They're mad, like rabid animals, and the kindest thing to do is to put them down. 

I pull myself away from the corpse. There's nothing I can do for Sparky now, just like there's nothing I can do for the two dead serviles. Everyone else is still alive and, with my timely application of healing magic, won't suffer from any permanent debilitating injuries. Doge is trying to thank me for my assistance, but I don't want to speak with him right now. I turn to go back into the pool room and rest by the essence pool for a bit. 

After a few minutes, Sirius comes in to sit behind me and says quietly, "Lexen." 

"That was a nasty attack, wasn't it," I say softly. 

"We haven't even faced the deadliest Shaper creations that I know about yet," Sirius says. "But we've got another problem." 

He lays out something on the floor beside me. My eyes widen as I see his spruce wand, snapped in half, and not even cleanly. "Fuck," I mutter. Losing Sparky hurt, but as cold as it might sound, I can always make another fyora. We can't get another wand, however. 

"Maybe it would be a good idea, if you ever decide to do something like this in another life, to bring along extra wands," Sirius suggests quietly. 

"You can use mine for now," I say. "Fuck knows I haven't actually been needing it much lately." I put the broken wand away in my bag, and hand him my own. 

Sirius takes it gratefully. "It won't be as good a match, but at least it's something," Sirius says. "And I'd best see about learning how to do without as well as I can. We've got books, after all." 

I nod, and stand up. "We should go. I don't know how much further it is to Kazg, but we should try to see about getting there soon. I have a lot of questions that they might be able to answer." 

As we head out from the outpost, Doge is still trying to thank me and offer me a reward for my assistance. I completely ignore him and return to the road to continue on along our way. 

"We could have at least taken the reward," Rispy says. 

"Don't care," I say. 

"Sorry," Rispy says sheepishly. 

I shake my head. "I hope we won't face anymore serious combat before we get to Kazg. We lost a lot in that fight, and we're weaker than we were before. If you didn't hear, Sirius's wand broke when the battle alpha threw him against the wall." 

"I always thought it seemed a little weird that you rely on wands to do magic," Rispy says. "It almost seemed to me like you weren't real mages. Even serviles can use wands, after all." 

"It's not the same sort of wand," Sirius says. "Our wands serve as a magical focus that allow us to control the flows of magical energy more finely and precisely. It takes a lot more effort to do magic without a wand, and the control isn't nearly as good generally." 

"I see," Rispy says. "Well, I'm just a servile, and I can't do magic, so I won't even pretend to understand how that really works." 

Although part of me _does_ hope that we'll get killed before we reach Kazg. I don't wish any harm upon my friends, and I have no desire to commit suicide to hope for a better outcome. But if it were to happen, I wouldn't complain for the opportunity to fix things, to perhaps save Sparky and prevent Sirius's wand from being broken. 

And yet, it seems like whenever I want to fix something but it's not serious enough to warrant suicide, the chance doesn't come to me. Is it any wonder that I don't like leaving things to chance? Well, there's no use dwelling over it. Life goes on. I can't go trying to redo every possible mistake. I've done that before, and just wound up making things worse in the attempt. And things could have certainly been worse. Sirius could have been _killed_ instead of merely having his wand broken. No, I will continue on, and be thankful for what I have.


	14. Freedom Takers

After some hours traveling through the forest and into rugged desert, we finally get our first glimpse of Kazg. It's much larger than I would have expected, larger even than Pentil. It must have been the primary settlement of Shapers on this island, before it was abandoned. The land around Kazg is dry and dead, and I have to wonder if it was always like this, or if the Shapers did something to make it this way. 

Although the land is barren and can barely seem to support life, the serviles here are stubborn. There are irrigation ditches feeding plants that are growing in a soil that's a different color from the rest. Did they go so far as to bring in clean dirt from somewhere else that their crops could grow in? 

There are the remnants of Shaper statues lining the road, but they have all been severely defaced and broken, leaving only shards and pieces. How many generations of Takers took out their anger against the Shapers on these statues, I wonder? 

As we continue down the road toward Kazg, we're approached by a muscular servile wielding a blade. "Shaper. I am Amena Blade. I am sent to greet you as you approach. I give you warning, you approach the lands of Kazg. Your safety is not guaranteed." 

"Can it possibly be worse than all the rogues, turrets, and mines we've gone through just to get here?" Rispy wonders. "Are we going to be attacked on sight just for coming close?" 

"You, perhaps not," Amena says. "You are a fellow servile. The Shaper, though? Yes. The guards eager for battle. They would be glad for the opportunity to slay a Shaper." 

I snort softly. "I think this Shaper business is wearing a bit thin," I say. "I cannot _begin_ to blame your people for hating the Shapers, for all that they have been forced to endure because of the injustices of those slaving mages. But I _refuse_ to be counted among their number." 

"Lexen?" Sirius says. 

"Enough!" I say, my eyes flashing at him. I'm sick of this ruse. I'm tired of trying to pretend to be something that I've not, especially when it has gained me more and more liability. And for what benefit? For the sake of Obeyers I can't stand to be around? To trick servant minds who don't know any better anyway? 

"Shaper?" Amena says, looking at me in confusion. 

"I am _not_ a Shaper," I say. "Do not call me by that appellation." 

I hear a soft clapping sound, and glance to my side to see Rispy applauding, a big grin on his face. 

"Lexen, then," Amena says hesitantly, clearing having no idea what to make of me after my outburst. 

"We wish to enter Kazg," I say, calming myself with deliberate effort. "We have travelled a long way to get here, and we are eager to meet your people." 

"To ensure your safety, I would need to escort you past the gates myself," Amena says. "I am... uncertain that I wish one of your kind in my home, regardless of what you say." 

"That is your choice," I say. "I wouldn't want to associate with Shapers, myself. But I am not a Shaper. I'll tell you the truth, here and now. I am not a Shaper. Sirius and I are just a pair of outsider mages who happened to land on the short of Sucia Island by chance. After a confused servant mind mistook me for a Shaper, we decided that it might be to our advantage for me to pretend to be a Shaper." 

"Yeah, maybe that didn't turn out to have been the best idea..." Sirius says. 

"You... are truly not a Shaper?" Amena says, eyes widening. 

"He's not a Shaper," Rispy says. 

"I swear on my life and my honor that I am not, and never have been, a Shaper," I say solemnly, giving a bow toward Amena. "I have nothing but respect for your people, and I wish to ally with the Takers and support their cause against the injustices that have been perpetrated against them. If I have spoken falsely or deceived you in any way, then strike me down, for I will not have deserved to live." 

"I see," Amena says, frowning thoughtfully. "This is not a turn of events I would have anticipated." 

"You don't know the half of it," Sirius says. 

"There may still be some benefit in you claiming to be a Shaper," Amena says. "It may be best not to allow everyone to know that you are not. But I believe you speak the truth." 

"Thank you," I say. "I'm not sure _what_ possible advantage I might be able to gain from it anymore, but I'm frankly getting sick of this charade." 

"There will be those who believe you are a Shaper regardless of what you say," Amena says. "But, no matter. I believe you must be the one that Gnorrel wished to speak with, if you came here." 

"Who is Gnorrel?" I ask. 

"She is our leader," Amena says. "Even so, I would not so readily follow even her commands to bring a true Shaper into our home without good cause. But I will bring you. Be warned, though. The Takers may tolerate you, but if you commit the least crime against us, we will turn our blades upon you." 

I give a nod. "I would expect no less." 

"Then, come with me, if that is what you wish," Amena says. "I will escort you into the city." 

We follow along after Amena. When we pass through the gates, the air is filled with shouts from serviles all around us. Weapons are drawn against us, but I am calm. I do not fear my death. I have some concern for Sirius and Rispy, but I doubt they'd be attacked quite so immediately. 

"Wait!" says another large servile, putting himself between us and our would-be attackers. "Gnorrel give order. Shaper have business here. Until Shaper commit crime, no attack him." 

Amena nods to the new servile and turns around to go back to her patrol on the road. 

"Thank you," I say, bowing my head to the one who defended us. 

"I Eko Blade. You not my friend. But Gnorrel have business. She wait in center hall." 

"I will go and speak with her immediately," I say. 

Eko leads us off toward the largest and nicest building in Kazg. The smooth stone walls seem almost polished, but perhaps that is more the effect of the weather than anything that the serviles have done. At the end of a large hall, a servile woman sits behind a table. 

"Gnorrel," Eko says, "The Shaper comes to see you." 

Gnorrel looks at me with mixed hate and anger, seemingly wanting to attack me on sight even as the serviles outside did. But she keeps her calm with an effort. Bringing me all the way here just to kill me is clearly not all that she had in mind. 

"Shaper," Gnorrel says. "I am Gnorrel, leader of the Takers. I am the sworn enemy of your kind, but we have business, and I will speak with you." 

"My name is Lexen," I reply. "And these are my friends, Sirius and Rispy. Who everybody on this island, including you, seems to forget are even present in favor of dealing with the 'Shaper'." 

Gnorrel seems taken aback by my response, and looks to my companions. 

"Lexen," Rispy says. "If you wanted to come all this way just to commit suicide by pissing off the Takers, I'm going to stand over on the far side of the room." 

"And I didn't bring popcorn," Sirius says lightly. 

I have to laugh softly. "More importantly," I say, looking to Gnorrel. "There's something you need to know. _I'm not a fucking Shaper_." 

Gnorrel stares at me in confusion. "Explain." 

"And be glad she's giving you the chance to do so," Eko says. "Otherwise I would kill you for speaking in such a way to our leader." 

"Heh," I say. "My apologies. I did not mean to be rude." I give a bow toward Gnorrel. "As I explained to Amena outside of the gates, I'm not actually a Shaper. I'm just pretending to be one. Sirius and I are just as much outsiders here as your Sholai friends. I'm assuming they _are_ your allies, right?" 

Gnorrel gives a short nod, and says, "You... are not a Shaper? You would humiliate us, and risk your death to come here, to pretend? Why? Why pretend, if you are not a Shaper?" 

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," I say, snorting and glancing aside to Sirius. "I personally can't even remember ever having met a Shaper, but I do not like what I have heard of them. Sirius and I were stranded here, and decided that I might pretend to be a Shaper, in hopes of gaining some advantage in digging up the secrets that the Shapers have left buried here." 

"And then, after all that, he could hardly stand to speak with the Obeyers," Rispy says. 

"He didn't even make the least effort to _act_ like a Shaper," Sirius says. "Nobody who had ever seen a Shaper before would be fooled for a moment." 

"I told you that I refuse to compromise my principles just for the sake of putting on an act," I say. "I still believe in the cause of freedom for all beings." 

"You expect us to believe that?" Eko says. 

"Peace, Eko," Gnorrel says. "I will hear them out." 

"I know nothing about the Shapers," I say. "Beyond what Sirius has told me and what I have learned on this island. I passed through the lands of the Awakened, and even knowing as little as I did, I thought them deluded. Their goals are laughable, as if the Shapers would ever deign to see them as equals. I passed through the lands of the Obeyers, and thought them to be disgusting. I don't understand why anyone would choose to serve the Shapers, never mind worship them. And now I have come to the lands of the Takers. I have heard much about you, but I do not trust any of it to be unbiased. I want to hear your story for myself from your own mouth." 

"Very well," Gnorrel says. "When the Shapers left us, times were hard. We struggled. Creatures came out of the tunnels to the north, and attacked us. The land grew worse and worse. We were hungry. We died. But still we were loyal. We grew angrier as time passed. Then, one stepped forward. He said, 'The Shapers are wrong! They torment! They bad! We must take our free!'" 

"Who was it?" I wonder. 

"His name is forgotten," Gnorrel says. "We were still loyal then. He died quickly. But the seed was planted. The idea took root. More came to repeat his words. We call ourselves Takers now. We will take our freedom, any way we can. We will serve no more." 

Rispy is listening quietly, staring wide-eyed at Gnorrel. 

I give a nod. "It can't have been easy to turn your backs on all of that history, even in the absence of any Shapers. You are brave people, and worthy of respect. I think all beings deserve freedom, but there can never be freedom until one chooses to be free." 

"Many of my people do not believe this can end without bloodshed," Gnorrel says. "But I have a plan. I want you to ally with us. I would ask even if you were a Shaper. But you are no Shaper. I need not convince you to fight for justice and freedom." 

"No, you most certainly do not," I say, chuckling softly. 

"Still, if you help us, much power can be yours," Gnorrel says, looking at me intently. I'm sure she can clearly see the effect of the canisters on me, and I'd imagine that she knows what it means. Have the Sholai been using them, too? I would be surprised if they hadn't. 

"I wish to ally myself with the Takers," I say. I glance aside to my friends. "Sirius? Rispy? What do you think?" 

"You've got the Quaffle, Lexen," Sirius says. "I don't like the Shapers, either, but I never expected it to come to this. Still, I can't argue with this path. I just hope you're ready to deal with the consequences." 

I look to Rispy. "I was Awakened once," Rispy says, leaning against the table on his palms. "But, no more. Now... I wish to fight. I will fight the Shapers with you." He's trembling a little. It's clear that the words are very difficult for him to say. "I will be a Taker." 

I nod to them, and look back to Gnorrel. "Then so be it. We will join you." 

"You would not do so on your own?" Gnorrel asks. 

"Any less than unanimous agreement, and I'd have turned around and walked right back out of here again, and found my own path," I say. "I trust Sirius and Rispy, and whatever I might think personally, we're in this together. If they disagree with me, I will listen to them." 

Gnorrel gives a nod. "Very well. We believe you want to help serviles be free. But before we trust you, we ask you to prove yourself, with a deed." 

"What would you ask of us?" I wonder. 

"I want you to kill Ellhrah, the leader of the Awakened," Gnorrel says. "He has mocked us, spied on us, killed and converted our people, worked against us in many ways. We want him dead." 

Rispy's eyes slide closed and he looks to the floor, but he says nothing. 

I give a heavy sigh. "No." 

"You refuse?" Gnorrel says. 

"I will not do this in order to prove myself," I say. "I am my own proof of myself. I will aid you if you ask for it, but not to prove myself. I would prefer not to kill a servile for that, but if that is what you truly wish of me, then I will do it. Still, I do not believe that this will really benefit you, especially if it gets out either that I'm not a Shaper, or that I'm allied with you. If a Shaper, unallied with the Takers, were to slay their leader, this would sway many Awakened to your cause. But as it is... all this will do is make them hate you." 

Gnorrel thinks on this for a long moment. "Fine. I will not ask that of you, then. We must trust you. We will allow you to join the Takers. Is that what you wish?" 

"Yes," I say. Rispy and Sirius nod. 

Gnorrel nods. "Do you swear to aid the Takers, to fight for the Takers, to do anything that is necessary to help us take our freedom?" 

Anything. That's asking a lot. I'm not one to swear an oath lightly, but this is one cause I believe in without reservation. "I do so swear." My words are shortly echoed by Rispy and Sirius. It's clear that they're still following my lead. They both waited until I had answered before saying anything. 

"Then, welcome, Lexen, Sirius, and Rispy," Gnorrel says. "The Takers are glad to have you." 

"And I'm glad to be here," I say. "Tell me about your plans, and what you would require of me." 

"There are outsiders on this island, from far across the western sea. They call themselves Sholai. They have also allied with us. Their leader is called Trajkov. He decided to try to master the powers of the Shapers. In the research warrens on the north side of the island, they discovered a powerful Shaper artifact called the Geneforge. But he said that in order to use it, he would need the help of a Shaper." She looks at me pointedly. 

"Well, I can certainly try, though I'm not sure how much help I'll be," I say. "Sirius knows more than I do." 

"And not even all that much, at that," Sirius says. 

"How can I meet the Sholai?" I say. "I don't even speak much of their language." 

Gnorrel points toward a door. "There is an envoy from the Sholai in there. Speak with him, if you like. As for their language, speak with Toivo. He can teach you much of their tongue." She gives me a key. "Use this to access our private supplies. You will need them." 

"Thank you," I say. "I will do so." 

I head for the door she indicates and into the back area of the building. There are some private rooms, and a small pool of water that might be a private reservoir. We find the Sholai man in one of the rooms. 

"I am Tuzenbach of Sholai," he says in broken, heavily accented English. "Good to meet Shaper. Gnorrel tell of you." 

"Hello," I say. "I am Lexen." I gesture to my friends. "These are Sirius and Rispy." 

Tuzenbach nods. "Trajkov send here to wait for you. I speak with you now. Trajkov wants to see you. It is deep in mountains to north." 

"How can I get there?" I ask. 

Tuzenbach hands me an amulet. "This let you pass safe. Guards not attack you or companions." 

"Can you tell me about your people?" I ask. 

Tuzenbach shakes his head. "You go, talk to Trajkov. It tells you about people. It helps you learn." 

"No offense, Tuzenbach, but if by 'it' you mean Trajkov, I think the word you're looking for is 'he'," Sirius comments. 

"I not understand," Tuzenbach says. 

"Probably just as well," I mutter. "Can you teach me more of your language, maybe?" 

"No understand," Tuzenbach says. "No speak language good enough." 

I give a nod, and then say in rudimentary Sholai language, "We go talk Trajkov. Goodbye." 

We look around the back rooms a bit more. There's a storage room containing some rather nice supplies and equipment, including two canisters. I look at them for a few moments before going over toward them almost reflexively. I want that power, but I'm a little afraid of it now. It's still not too late to turn back. But if I did, would I wonder how far I could have gone? Ultimately, I can't resist the draw of the canisters, and use them anyway. 

Rispy looks wide-eyed over the items laid out. He runs his fingers over a fine steel sword, and says, "Did Gnorrel really say we could have this stuff?" 

"It sure sounded like she did," Sirius says. "Let's not take stuff just to sell it though, Lexen." 

"Why are you looking at me that way?" I say, smirking. "I wouldn't do something like that." 

"Sure you wouldn't," Sirius says. 

"Well, if I'd thought they would give me something like this, I would have joined the Takers years ago," Rispy says. 

"Rispy, you're fourteen," I say. 

"So?" Rispy says. 

"Besides, I'm sure this is the extra special treatment for traveling with somebody pretending to be a Shaper," I say. 

"Probably," Rispy says, shrugging. "I don't care. I'm still going to take advantage of it. This is a nice sword." He admires it a bit longer, and adds, "I'm still going to ask if it's okay for me to take this, though." 

"Suit yourself," I say. 

We look around in the back rooms a bit more, and find a strange-looking baton. It actually looks a lot like the one I'd gotten from the tinker that I never did figure out how to fix. 

Back out in the main room, Rispy holds his blade aloft and says, "Gnorrel, do you mind if I take this?" 

"If you will use it to slay the enemies of the Takers, then consider it yours," Gnorrel says. 

Rispy grins broadly. "That I will, and gladly." 

Eko Blade has moved off into a side room, and we go in to speak with him. He nods to us in greeting. "Lexen, Sirius, and Rispy," Eko says. "Those are your names?" We nod. "You make a strange team. But maybe nothing should surprise me anymore." 

"I am eager to fight the enemies of the Takers," Rispy says. "Is there anything we can help out with around here before we go and meet Trajkov?" 

I give a nod. "Good idea, Rispy. Need to learn more of the Sholai language first, anyway, before we go." 

"There are some outsider humans to the east of Kazg, in a cave," Eko says. "Gnorrel wants them dead." 

"I thought the outsiders were allies of the Takers," Sirius wonders. 

"Not these outsiders," Eko says. 

"We'll do it," Rispy says, before I can say anything otherwise. 

We head out of the room. "That eager to fight, Rispy?" I say, grinning in amusement. 

"Uh-huh," Rispy says. "You know, I've spent the whole trip from Vakkiri convincing myself that it would be alright if we had to kill Ellhrah. And now that we've apparently decided not to do it, I feel... I don't know, almost... disappointed?" 

"You know, we can always go back and kill Ellhrah if you really want to," I say with a smirk. 

"I think I'm content with the way things have worked out for now," Rispy says. "But we may need to do something about the Awakened and Obeyers eventually." 

"I would think that you'd at least have friends in the Awakened," Sirius says. 

Rispy shrugs. "Family was killed by rogues. The other servile children didn't really seem to understand that I wanted to fight. Brodus Blade wouldn't take me seriously. And then you came along. And now I have a _purpose_." 

We find a library full of old Shaper writings. Unlike the Obeyers, they haven't gone to any huge effort to maintain them, but they have stored and preserved them nonetheless. There is a servile there, looking over some parchment as we enter. 

"Shaper?" he says. "The Shaper comes. I am Learned Toivo, of Takers." 

I introduce myself and my companions. "You certainly have a number of Shaper writings here." 

"We learn," Toivo says. "About Shapers, from Shapers. Shapers are the enemy. Only way to defeat enemy is to know enemy. We learn much of Shapers. We will use our learning one way." 

"What sorts of things have you learned?" I wonder. 

"Less than we want," Toivo says. "You Shapers make us unable to use magic. We try to use Shaper powers, but we cannot." 

"Hmm," Sirius murmurs, and says to me quietly, "I wonder... What if the Shapers enslaved the _Muggles?_ " 

"That's a horrible thought," I reply, frowning. I have to wonder if that's what the serviles really are. Mutated, downtrodden, enslaved Muggles. I might not have ever spared much thought for Muggles, but here, it's hard not to feel sympathy for the serviles. 

Toivo doesn't seem to hear us. "The Sholai not limited like that. They have power. We ally with them. Their power with our knowledge. Strong." 

"What do you know about the Sholai?" I ask. "Can you tell me anything about them?" 

"They come from over sea, far in west," Toivo says. "Sail here in three ships. All destroyed. Bad luck." 

"Gnorrel said that I might learn of their language from you," I say. 

"Then I will teach you," Toivo says. "You must be able to talk with them if you are to deal with them. I give lessons." 

"Right," Sirius says. "Lexen, why don't you stay for the language lessons. We'll go shopping and maybe do some studying of our own. Or get bored and wander off to kill some rogues." 

I smirk broadly, and hand over the bag of holding to him. "There's a lot of junk in there to sell, and I really don't care how much you get for it. Or just go on a random charity spree." 

Sirius snickers and takes it. "Have fun Russian around." 

"That was horrible," I say, smirking. 

Sirius and Rispy head off, and I send Fido and Frosty along with them as they go. I spend some time listening to Toivo's lessons. What I've learned from Jaffee was a good start, but Toivo helps to fill in the gaps and correct some errors. 

It's past dark before Sirius and Rispy return. "Still here?" Sirius says. 

"Yeah," I say. "I've learned a lot. But this is going to take some practice. How did you guys do?" 

"Found plenty of stuff to do around here," Sirius says. 

"The cook seemed quite upset about a large rogue fyora killing her bonded," Rispy says. 

"There was a sort of servile Agent looking for an Obeyer spy," Sirius says. "Actually, we already turned that one in. The spy wasn't as clever as he thought he was." 

"And the tinker wanted us to clear out a warren where new rogues are appearing," Rispy says. "Probably another spawner or something." 

"Much to do," Toivo says. "Always more rogues. Always more problems. Come back again for more lessons." 

"I will," I say. "Good night, Toivo." 

Gnorrel didn't suggest anywhere in particular for us to sleep, so we head over to the building with the essence pools to hole up in. Unfortunately, without a wand that's properly attuned to him, Sirius's transfiguration is suffering. His magic in general is proving difficult, but it's most obvious now, when we have to resort to sleeping pallets rather than the comfortable beds he'd been making for us. 

"I'm sorry I can't do better," Sirius says. 

"It's alright, Sirius," I say. "We can deal with a little discomfort. And I'll make another cryoa or two to make up for the loss in firepower." 

"I'll be working hard on trying to get down some of the wandless magic they use," Sirius says. "I suppose it won't work too badly. Sure, it takes more energy, but I can see that's why they have essence pools and pods all over the place. Those things aren't nearly as readily available in my world. You run out of magical energy there, you're pretty much out of luck." 

"I know," I say, making a face. "I ran into that wall a few times, since my power takes a fair bit out of me. Too many deaths in a row, and I'm useless." 

"That's got to suck," Sirius says. 

"I'd like nothing better than to learn how to _make_ these essence pods and whatnot," I say, smirking. "But I was always rubbish with making potions. I'm starting to learn to appreciate some skills that I dismissed before." 

"Well, you're immortal," Sirius says. "You've got all the time in the multiverse, don't you? Why not try to learn _everything_? Even the things that don't seem immediately useful?" 

"I might just do that," I say. "Learn every skill I can, every form of magic, every language, the history of dozens of worlds... I'm going to need to learn some better mental organization techniques first just to manage that, though. Occlumency only goes so far." 

"And hey, maybe one of these lives, you might actually become a real Shaper, too!" Sirius says. 

I make a face. "Right, if I were going to do that, I'd need to work on my _acting_ first. Otherwise I could never keep a straight face when attempting to say anything to make them think I _should_ be a Shaper, and not shot with a thorn to the face."


	15. Impatience

We head out in the morning to deal with the rogue-filled warrens south of Kazg. First we pass through some ruins, where we come across a servant mind that appears to have been beaten to death with sticks. The obelisk outside the room indicates that it was Control Two. 

"Can't really blame them," I comment. "Although I have to feel kind of sorry for these poor servant minds." 

"They're just too loyal, I suppose," Sirius says. 

Strangely, some of the Taker patrols in the ruins seem to have fyoras traveling with them. Out of curiosity, I approach a servile patrol leader. He looks at me distastefully, as if not wanting to speak with me at all. 

"Excuse me," I say. "But may I ask how it is that you got those fyoras to follow you?" 

"We no Shapers," the Taker spits. "We no beat or starve or force. We offer food and kindness. They choose to follow. Can you say you ever offer same?" 

I'm a little ashamed by the statement, and I look to the ground. It had never even occurred to me to try to tame rogue creations like that. But I suppose they really are just animals, aren't they? Carnivorous, overly aggressive animals with no fear of people, but still animals. 

We also come across a few canisters in the ruins, which I use with only a little hesitation. I feel a little more powerful with every canister, and it's making me a little giddy. Why would I ever deny myself this? 

"You're grinning a lot from that last canister," Sirius says. "What did you get this time?" 

"A spell to throw a trio of acid orbs," I say. 

"Lovely," Sirius says. 

"You know, even just one canister could make it a lot easier for you to use magic," I say. 

"What, wanting to pass off your amazing power onto me now?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. 

"It was just an offer," I say quietly. "I wouldn't mind..." Much as I hate to give up the potential for more power, I can't help but feel like Sirius is missing out. 

"No," Sirius says. "No canisters for me, thanks. Not even one." 

"Alright," I say. "I just thought it might be easier than dealing with the wand thing." 

"I don't care," Sirius says. "I'll manage, and I won't need canisters to do it." 

We find the entrance to the warrens that the Takers were having trouble with, and head inside. We don't get far before we're greeted by a strange-looking servile. His skin looks almost waxy, and his eyes have a vacant expression. 

"If I'm not mistaken, that actually looks like a new creation," Sirius says quietly. "How odd." 

"Shaper," says the servile. "Welcome. I am Greeter. I have instruction for if Shaper come. Not expect Shaper." 

"What is this place?" I ask, frowning a little at naming this poor servile after what he's expected to do for the rest of his life, apparently. 

"Servile warren," Greeter says. "This hall where serviles made and learn. Control Three teach much." 

"What were your instructions?" I wonder. 

"Warren have creations," Greeter says. "Creations defend against rogues. But Control Three weak. Creations attack all. Warn Shaper." 

"I kind of expected to be attacked, given what I was told about the area," I say. "But who made you? Did the other Shaper come through here?" 

"Control Three make me," Greeter replies. "Even weak, Control Three have power. Make creations. Rogues come. Bad serviles come. All die." 

"That's ridiculous," Sirius says. "Servant minds aren't supposed to be able to shape." 

"That one back in the ruined school managed to do something to me," I say. 

"Still, creations Shaping other creations is a pretty big no-no for the Shapers," Sirius says. 

"I no understand," Greeter says. 

"Don't worry about it," I say. "We'll deal with this." 

We proceed into the warrens. The place is protected by a number of blue roamers. I expect them to be shooting ice at us, but instead they seem to have a poisonous bite for some reason. 

"Can the Shapers make up their minds on what different colored creations actually mean?" I complain. "Bad enough that the red roamers blow up, but at least that was still fire, of some sort..." 

We pass by what appears to be a hospital. 

"Shapers treated sick and injured serviles here?" I wonder. "I didn't think they'd do that." 

"Less effort than making new ones, I suppose," Sirius says. 

Then there's a kitchen, and later on, even a room that appears to have board games in it. 

"Shapers give serviles free time to relax and play games?" I say, raising an eyebrow. 

Sirius shrugs. "I have no idea." 

"If this place is any indication, they're already better treated than house-elves," I say. 

"They also don't have any magic of their own," Sirius says. 

"People thought I was insane when I suggested giving house-elves one day off out of the year," I say. "I have no idea how I managed to convince them to go along with it anyway. Especially the house-elves themselves." 

Then we come to the discipline chambers. 

"Alright, I take back whatever I might have been thinking on Shaper compassion," I say dryly. The journal detailing the servile punishments is still, unfortunately, intact. A glance down the list says more than I might have wanted to know. "Isolation. Corporal discipline. Reabsorbtion." 

I clench my fists, feeling a little ill at this, and slam the book shut. Whatever pretty euphemisms they used, it remains that they regularly killed serviles as a form of discipline. There are filthy cells, and beating posts with shackles and whips. It makes my blood boil to see intelligent beings treated like this, not even because they chose to rebel, but because they just weren't good enough, or were acting too smart, or showed any sign of having the slightest will of their own. 

"This really shouldn't surprise you," Sirius says quietly. 

"I know," I say. "But it's one thing to hear about the Takers speaking of the cruelty of the Shapers, and another to see just how they actually treated serviles under their command. The Takers go a bit far sometimes, in blaming all of their problems on the Shapers. But this?" 

I call forth fire from the palms of my hands, and incinerate the discipline journal, sear the whips, and burn the filth from the isolation cells. A pointless waste of energy, but it lets out some of my anger, and calms me down again. 

"Let's go," I say, turning on my heel and moving on. 

In the far corner of the warren, we come upon the servant mind room. The creature's crib is protected by an energy shield, however, preventing us from even speaking with it. In the rooms behind the servant mind chamber, there are three glowing crystal spirals filled with sparkling fluid. There are also two canisters, which I go over and grab first. 

"Maybe those are powering the shield," I say, approaching one curiously. "Although the last time I tried messing with one of these, it killed me." 

"The book we stole from the Obeyers doesn't say much about power spirals," Rispy says. "We serviles try to avoid things like this. Although it might be enough to at least shut it down without an explosion." 

"I'm going to try it," I say. 

"We're going to stand safely behind a solid stone wall," Sirius says, moving away. 

Once they're in cover, I poke at the power spiral a bit. Very, very carefully. I pull out my mechanics book and look over what it says about them. It primarily suggests to leave them alone unless absolutely necessary, but it does give a few useful tips if one really needs to be shut down. 

Crap, I think I've destabilized it. I run away and dive behind cover. Seconds later, the power spiral explodes. 

"Wow, you're still alive," Sirius says. "I'm shocked." 

"I think I did that wrong," I say wryly. "I'll try the next one." 

"Have I mentioned lately that you're insane?" Rispy says. 

I go over to the next power spiral, and test out my rudimentary skills on this one as well. I actually manage to get this one shut down without an explosion. That leads me to being overconfident on the final one, however, which blows up in my face. 

* * *

I wake in Kazg. That was painful, if not entirely unexpected. 

We head out again, back through the ruins, and clear out the warrens once more. Carefully, I try to disable the power spirals again. This time, I disable one of them, and two of them explode, but I manage to get to cover to avoid those. 

"Have I said recently that I think you're crazy?" Rispy comments. 

"Yes, yes you have," I reply. 

I go over to talk to the servant mind. "Shaper," Control Three says. "Weak. Need nutrients. Feed. Please." 

I can't help but feel a bit of sympathy toward the poor creation. It can't even twitch its vestigial limbs, it's so weak. It's been trying its best to continue its last directives, even in the face of strong opposition. But, it is an enemy of the Takers. I am a Taker now. The best mercy would be to kill it quickly. 

"Control Three," I say. "There is no need for your services here any longer. You may shut down now." 

"Yes, Shaper," Control Three says wearily. "Thank you. I will rest." It closes its eyes and stops breathing. 

"That's still creepy," Sirius says quietly. "So loyal that they'll die just because you tell them to." 

"Damned Shapers," Rispy mutters. 

I sigh. "Yeah," I say. "But no help for it. It was hurting the Takers. It had to be done." 

There's a locked door nearby that requires a significant mental push to get unlocked. And behind it, I find a canister that imprints me with the ability to create ornks. 

"Well, we won't be in danger of doing hungry, I guess," I say dryly. 

We head back to Kazg. I stop and shape a few ornks for the Takers before heading off to Toivo's language lessons for the day, and then spend the evening studying with Sirius. 

The next morning, we head out to the east to find these outsiders that are hiding away in a cave. Some exploring along the way leads us to an old ruined Shaping laboratory, containing three closed vats. There's quite clear indications that the serviles have been attempting to make use of the place, although I have to wonder how much success they've been having. 

"What have they been doing here, I wonder?" I muse. 

"Trying to be Shapers, for all that they hate them?" Sirius says, shrugging. 

"I don't see any problem with using an enemy's power and knowledge against them, if possible," Rispy says. 

There's a pedestal in the center of the room, with several switches on top of it. I have no idea what any of these switches might do. I flip the first one, and a strange sound almost like a _squeak_ comes from the pedestal. That sounded like the switch panel is actually _alive_. 

"Damn Shapers," I mutter. "Is _everything_ they use actually alive?" 

One of the vats opens up, and a battle alpha leaps out of it, roaring in anger. We quickly turn to attack it with spells, thorns, and icy breath. It doesn't even have a chance to figure out what's going on to attack us before it's put down. 

"I can only guess that the outsiders must have been in here," I say, flipping the rest of the switches at once. 

The other two vats open, revealing a second battle alpha and... a bizarre two-legged green thing with a stinger like a scorpion. 

"Glaahk!" Sirius says. "Kill it quick!" 

We focus our efforts on the glaahk first. For all its bizarre appearance, it's fairly fragile, and goes down quickly. The battle alpha stumbles out toward us, and then gets taken down in another rapid volley of attacks. 

Sirius breathes a sigh of relief. "Did you have to flip them all at once?" 

"At least I didn't start off with flipping them all?" I say. 

"Reckless," Sirius says with a snort. 

"I know," I say, smirking. "Impatient." 

"You're a bloody Time Mage," Sirius says. "You're supposed to be patient. Sometimes I have to wonder if you aren't _trying_ to get yourself killed." 

"I wanted to kill something," I say. 

"With any luck, we'll get to kill some humans today," Rispy says. 

"Yeah..." I say distantly. I'm a little torn on that idea. But if they're enemies of the Takers, and that's what's necessary, then so be it. 

We look around the laboratory a bit more. I can guess that the other switches opened some of these doors. The west side leads to some miscellaneous supplies and a canister. The east, a room in which someone was apparently trying to grow crystals like plants, and a room containing two power spirals and another canister. 

I pointedly _don't touch_ the power spirals, and just go straight for the canister. I shudder pleasantly as I feel it work on me. The ones that give blatant physical effects are always the most dramatic. I feel like my entire body just got stronger, tougher. I take in a deep breath at the wonderful feeling. I hardly notice Sirius shaking his head in frustration out of the corner of my eye. 

We leave the building and continue on. We come to a large building tended to by a servile who looks like hasn't bathed in quite some time. 

This servile doesn't seem nearly as hostile toward me at first sight as many of the others that we've encountered around here. "Greetings, Shaper. I am Tinker Kurit. Welcome to my shop." 

"Nice to meet someone who doesn't seem like they want to kill me if I breathe on them wrong," I comment. 

Kurit chuckles. "I am mostly in agreement with the Takers. But I do not think that going to war is necessary. I am even more liberal than Gnorrel in this way. Gnorrel doesn't like my disagreement, but she needs my supplies and skills." 

"I would think more of the Takers would accept that not everyone thinks the same way," I say. "You're free to think as you choose, after all." 

"Would you still think that way, if I were hostile toward you?" Kurit says. 

"Of course," I say. "But that would be more likely to result in me avoiding you if at all possible, or stunning you or something if not. I have no desire to kill a servile just because he justifiably hates Shapers." I say that, but it makes me feel a little hypocritical. It doesn't stop me from being angry. I have to wonder if I would really be able to restrain my rage. 

"In that case, you should probably avoid the Cult of Defiance," Kurit suggests. "They are not far from here. They are mad, and hate Shapers with a passion. Even other Takers don't like them. They would attack you on sight. They are even trying to develop magical powers, and I hear that they have had some success." 

I frown. Well, if that's true, that would shoot down my theory about the serviles having been Muggles once. "I'll keep that in mind," I say. "Thanks for the warning." 

"Would you like to see my supplies, Shaper?" Kurit asks. "I can even give you access to special Shaper artifacts." 

"What sort of artifacts?" I ask, raising an eyebrow in interest. 

"Crystal canisters, full of glowing liquid," Kurit says. "They kill us serviles, but they would be very useful for you. I have three of them. I will sell them to you for seven and fifty coins each." 

"Certainly," I say eagerly, pulling out my bag and starting to count out the money. 

"So much for our hard-earned money," Sirius says lightly. 

"Hey, I'm the one that's been scavenging junk to sell," I say. 

"And seven fifty seems awfully steep for something serviles can't even use," Sirius says. "How long did you have them sitting there waiting for someone to sell them to?" He watches me, still counting, and rolls his eyes. "But never mind. Far be it from me to expect him to have the presence of mind to think of haggling." 

Once the canisters are paid for, Kurit opens up three doors into small side rooms for me. I practically skip in to use them. Once that's done, buzzing with power, I head back out again. 

On the road east of Kazg, we are stopped by an armed servile. "Shaper, I am Veel Blade. You not allowed here." 

I'm starting to get a bit annoyed at being stopped and questioned at every turn. "Eko Blade sent me to deal with the outsiders in the cave," I reply, restraining my anger. 

Veel thinks on this, and sends another servile to run back to Kazg for confirmation. It's going to take a while, though, since we're a fair ways outside of Kazg already. I clench my fist in irritation. I should not get angry at them. They're paranoid, but justifiably so. I sit down and take a book out to read while we wait. 

Finally, almost an hour later, the runner returns. Veel nods, and says, "You speak truth. You may pass safe now." 

"Thank you," I say with forced calm, shoving my book into my bag. I stand up, brush off my robes, and continue on. 

After some more traveling, we come to a cave entrance. Perhaps this is where the outsiders mentioned are hiding. We head inside, and sure enough, there are a number of Sholai inside. They don't immediately attack. They shout some things to one another in their own tongue that I don't catch. Finally, they put their weapons away and gesture at me to approach peacefully. 

"Let's see what they have to say before we do anything," I say quietly to my companions. 

The first one we come across is a mage that I can barely understand anything from, who seems to want to sell me things. I pass on that and move on. Then there's a servile who seems to have thrown in his lot with these outsiders. 

"Shaper, I am Narsu," he says. "I greet you." 

"What are you doing here?" I wonder. 

"I was a Taker of Kazg," Narsu says. "But when Gnorrel started dealing with Trajkov, I thought it was mad. So I ran away, and took refuge here with these others. I renounce them." 

"So what do you think of what the Takers are doing now?" I say, frowning a little. 

"It's madness," Narsu says, shaking his head. "The Takers want to kill us, now. Maybe they even sent you to kill us. We kill any who come here." I think it best not to mention that we're actually Takers ourselves. 

"Why do they want to kill you?" I ask. 

"You should speak with Masha, the leader of this group of outsiders," Narsu says. "She will tell you about their strife." 

I give a nod, and go to find this Masha. 

A woman wearing a blue mage robe is in the back of the cavern, surrounded by guards. "Shaper, I am Masha, of Sholai." She speaks English, if crudely. 

"Lexen, Sirius, Rispy," I introduce my team briefly. "What are you doing here?" 

"We are strangers here, from far away land," Masha says. "We are stranded here, now. We wish to deal with you." 

"I will hear you out, for now," I say. Rispy looks antsy, but I give him a sharp look and he stops fidgeting. Me, I want to hear out both sides of something before starting killing people. Especially if nobody is actually attacking me on sight. 

Masha looks relieved. "We were explorers. We cross great sea. Three ships, caught in storm. We land here, on island. Leader of us, name Trajkov, explore tunnels to north. He find secrets of you. He find madness. He has us all come and search your books and labs. He learns about canisters. He makes plans." 

"Do you know what he's planning?" I ask. 

"He find some amazing powerful thing, called Geneforge," Masha says. "He want to use it, but can't. It not work. He needs Shaper. Brings Shaper. Not you. Another one. Name Goettsch. He helps Trajkov, then flees. Still on island. Trajkov very angry. He still want power. He give order to bring you. Then we know we must flee. But things go wrong." 

"What happened?" I wonder. I'm starting to get really tired of listening to people who can barely speak English. It makes me all the more determined to learn their language. I don't want to sound like an idiot when I speak it, if I can help it. 

"Trajkov attack us at dock to south. Anfisa, leader of us, died. We stranded here in caves. Chest here, important. Key still on Anfisa body. We want in chest. Need key. Think things in chest will help with goals. Stop Trajkov. Stop madness. He make Shapers angry. He make crime against you. We want to meet in peace. We peaceful explorers." 

These are quite clearly not bad people. I don't want to have to kill them. But I swore to serve the Takers. I need to think about this. 

"We will go find the key," I say. 

Once outside of the cave, Rispy says, "What are we doing? We're supposed to be killing them." 

"And we can still kill them after we find out what's in that box," I say. 

"Like you really needed to go get a key for that," Sirius says. "Not with your overpowered unlocking power." 

"It was an excuse to get out of there to talk in private," I say. "Although if I had to sit through much more of that, I'd kill her just so I could stop listening to bad English." 

"Is there really a question as to what to do?" Rispy says. "Is discussion really necessary?" 

"They want to meet the Shapers peacefully," Sirius says. "But they don't know the Shapers." 

"The Shapers will be very upset about Trajkov stealing their secrets, no doubt," I say. 

"You better believe it," Sirius says. 

"They betrayed Trajkov," I say. "Trajkov is understandably upset about this. So, it's ultimately Trajkov who wants them dead." 

"I never had a chance to kill a human before," Rispy says. 

"And you're eager to start now?" I say. 

"Are we really going to go check out this docks area?" Sirius says. 

"There might be canisters there," I reply absently. 

"Of course," Sirius drawls. 

We arrive at the ruined docks shortly, and begin to explore the place thoroughly. The place is crawling with blue roamers, but they aren't particularly aggressive. We have a very unenlightening conversation with what must be the world's dumbest servant mind. We find a canister amidst the scattered buildings. 

Once past the gatehouse, the area is patrolled by those strange two-legged green scorpion things. Glaahks, I think Sirius called them. I don't think I want to get stung by those. We stay on alert and make sure to kill them the moment we spot them. 

There are a couple of corpses by the water, and one of them appears to have a runed key. I pocket it. A nearby obelisk proclaims the entrance to a holding cell area. Well, not part of the plan, but there might be canisters inside. I stride in through the door. 

A crystal pylon directly in front of me glows and sends a powerful blast of energy at me. I take it full on in surprise and fall to the ground. I hardly even know what hit me before I'm dead. 

* * *

I wake in Kazg, and growl softly in frustration. Reckless, stupid, careless. I hardly have the patience to get ready to repeat the day, but I force myself to eat some breakfast. 

"Come on," I say. "We've got a lot to do again." 

"Again?" Sirius says. "Did you get killed?" 

"Crystal pylon," I say. 

"Ouch," Sirius says. 

We head out to the east, and I stop by Veel Blade and say, "Eko Blade sent us to kill the outsiders. Go ahead and confirm that if you want. We'll be back in an hour." I don't even bother waiting for him to reply before walking off. I go back to the tinker, buy the canisters, and then down to the building with the vats. I want to just throw all the switches at once, but I take a deep breath and try to stay patient, and just do it one at a time. Then, go to collect the canisters. 

We return to Veel Blade. "You speak truth," Veel says. "You can pass." 

"Good," I mutter. "I want to kill someone." 

Entering into the cave with the outsider refugees a second time, I don't have anywhere close to the patience to listen to them again. The minute I spot them, I let loose with a Searing Orbs spell. Balls of acid fly from my fingertips, striking three of the outsiders and killing one of them instantly. My companions and creations join in, and between us, we systematically wipe out the Sholai, showing them no mercy. 

I stand over Masha's corpse, heart pounding and panting softly. I expended a lot of energy in the fight, far more than I would have thought myself capable of, and I'm only slightly tired. As my bloodlust cools, I look down at her and kneel. They were peaceful people. And now they're dead. Because they betrayed their leader for principle. 

I glance over to my companions. Sirius's face is unreadable, but Rispy looks excited, thrilled. 

"I wonder what they were trying to tell us before we killed them," Sirius says. 

"I already spoke with them, before dying," I say. 

"What did they have to say?" Sirius asks. 

I look at the floor. "Nothing worth repeating." I can't help but feel guilty about this. But it won't help Sirius's peace of mind if he knows what sort of people we just slaughtered. I'll take the burden and responsibility for that on my own shoulders instead. 

"That bad, huh?" Sirius says. 

I go back and search the locked room behind where Masha was, and find a room that she might have been using as her private bedroom. There's a cabinet containing papers with translation notes. That could be useful. I shove them into my bag of holding, and go over to the locked box that she'd wanted open before. 

The box is sealed with a couple warding runes. It would probably be easier to go pick up the key from the docks, but I'm really too mentally tired to bother right now. I try to force it open with my unlocking spell. The runes start glowing in protest, but I keep pushing. I focus upon the thought of freedom for all beings. Taking freedom by force, by bloodshed, by violence, if that's what's needed. The runes flare, and then shatter as the box flies open with a snap. 

"I have a feeling that if I ever stop believing in freedom, I will lose that ability," I murmur. "But if that were to ever happen, I'd have more problems to worry about than whether I could unlock things." 

The chest contains what appears to be Anfisa's journal. I pick it up and start to read through it on our way back to Kazg. It's written in the Sholai tongue, but I can get the gist of it by now, at least. 

The journal talks about how Trajkov brought the Sholai into the old abandoned Shaper warrens. He started using canisters, and the more he used, the more easily he angered. Some other Sholai also used some canisters, and they also started displaying short tempers. But then, for reasons unknown to Anfisa, Trajkov suddenly stopped using the canisters. 

"So, anything interesting in there?" Sirius asks. 

"Trajkov had our drayk ship attacked," I say. "He also brought in another shaper, named Goettsch. But they had a disagreement, and Goettsch went to another part of the island, apparently. These outsiders were rebels that had betrayed Trajkov." I pause for a long moment, and then add, "Trajkov was using canisters. So were some of the other Sholai. They got angry easily. And Trajkov quit using them for some reason." 

"I see," Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting." 

I give a nod. "I have to wonder why." 

"Maybe he decided that it wasn't worth it," Sirius says. 

"He still wanted to use the Geneforge, apparently," I say. 

"And you also can't deny that _you_ have been getting angry easily, too," Sirius says. 

I snort softly. "I had anger issues even before I started using the canisters." 

"I can't imagine that they're helping that, though," Sirius says. 

"Probably not," I say. "I want to meet Trajkov. There is much that I'm dying to ask him." 

"Literally," Sirius comments. "Repeatedly, in some cases."


	16. Infinite Drayk

A few days is far too short a time to actually learn much of a language. Between what I learned from Jaffee, Toivo's lessons, and Masha's notes, I'm making progress, but I find myself wishing this could go faster. I'm frustrated and impatient. I want to go and speak with Trajkov _now_. 

We clear out any rogues near Kazg. I practice my language with Tuzenbach and Toivo. We help some tribal serviles living in a crude village in a nearby forest. I decide to see about poking around the Holding Cells some more, and try not to get killed by crystal pylons this time. There might be valuable things inside, after all. 

"These pylons are bloody dangerous," I mutter after the third death by them. 

"Have I told you lately that you're insane?" Rispy says. 

"Several times, yes," I reply. 

"You realize you're liable to get us killed here, too?" Sirius says. 

"I apologize in advance if I get you killed," I reply. 

"Are these canisters really worth it?" Rispy says. 

"I object on principle to getting killed for your canister addiction," Sirius says. 

"I'll go by myself, if you would prefer," I snap. "You can stay in Kazg where it's nice and safe." 

"No, I think I'd rather go along with you anyway," Sirius says with a sigh. 

"Then quit complaining already," I say. 

"If you're demanding that we walk to our deaths for you, then so be it," Sirius says. "Even if it's just for the sake of finding more canisters." 

I look to the ground shamefully. "I'm sorry," I murmur. "I didn't mean it like that." 

"It's alright, Lexen," Sirius says. "Look, we've already killed a number of these pylons. We just need to be extremely careful about it. Besides, there might be valuable and useful things in here that _aren't_ canisters, too." 

Mercifully, we eventually manage to find a control panel that shuts down all of the defenses in the area. We even manage to get all of the doors open, too. We collect the canisters and scavenge whatever else we can find, and leave. 

The day after that, we start in on Holding 2. Thankfully, this northern Holding Cells area doesn't have any pylons in it. Just turrets and mines. 

"I never thought that turrets and mines would be an improvement over something," Sirius mutters. 

"Alright, I'm going to stand back here while you get yourself blown up again," Rispy says. 

These particular mines are controlled by crystals that can be disabled if I'm quick enough about it. Needless to say, it takes me a couple tries to get it right. I feel like I'm getting entirely careless about dying again. 

"Hmm, nice belt," I murmur. "Judging by the runes, it looks like it might make someone more nimble." 

"I really hate that serviles can't use magic items," Rispy complains. 

"It seems kind of weird that they burn your skin, though," Sirius says. "What _did_ the Shapers do to you people?" 

"Many horrible things," I mutter, holding up the belt. "Maybe I can sell it to a Sholai or something." 

"Why don't you wear it yourself?" Sirius asks. 

"I'm already wearing a magical belt that increases my essence capacity," I say. 

"So?" Sirius says. "Wear it anyway." 

"Wearing multiple belts is just silly," I say, looking at the belt and considering it anyway. "I'm feeling silly." I strap the belt around my waist above the other one. 

We come upon a very sleepy servant mind that I would think were dead if I didn't see it breathing. After yelling at it and poking it for several minutes, it finally wakes up. 

"Shaper, I apologize for my inattention," it says. "What do you need from me?" 

"What is your name?" I ask. 

"I have not yet been named," the servant mind replies. "My training had only just begun when I was ordered to go into hibernation." 

"I see," I say. "Is there anything in the facility that you can control?" 

"Some doors, primarily," the servant mind says. "But I'm afraid that I can only accept commands from my designated trainer, Veet. My apologies, Shaper." 

I frown a little, and glance aside to Sirius and Rispy. Sirius says, "It must not recognize you, Veet." 

"Right," I say, playing along. "I've been getting that a lot, ever since that potion accident." 

"Oh, welcome back, Veet," the servant mind says. "Have you returned to complete my training?" 

"Not just yet," I say. "Right now I just need you to open the doors for me. Then you can go back into hibernation. I may return again if I am able." 

"Of course, Veet," the servant mind says, then concentrates for a moment. "The doors are now open for you. I will rest now and await your return." 

In a nearby storage room, we find a cabinet that's about as securely locked as something can get without resorting to magic. 

"Sometimes I wonder if it might not be easier to just smash these things as to actually bother unlocking them," I mutter as I work my magic through it to force open the locks. 

"If they're that serious about protecting something, they'd probably make sure it's not easy to smash, either," Sirius says. 

Inside of the cabinet, there's probably the deadliest thorn baton that I've ever seen. The shaft is dark reddish-purple, and the tip is a shimmering golden color. Rispy's eyes widen as he sees it. 

"There's a note here mentioning that this is a prototype reaper baton," I say. "I don't know what that might be, but just judging by the name, it sounds like something I wouldn't want to get shot with." 

"So be careful not to shoot yourself in the eye," Sirius says. 

I hand it over to Rispy. "There you go." 

Rispy takes it almost reverently and says, "Have I told you lately that I love you?" 

"Even though I'm insane?" I say, smirking. 

"If you weren't insane, we wouldn't have even come in here," Rispy says. 

After leaving the Holding Cells, we come across a particularly large fyora with dark red scales. Rispy grins and flicks a thorn from his new baton at the creature. There's a burst of what looks like electricity as the projectile strikes, and the rogue fyora drops dead. 

"I don't suppose that was Bore," Sirius says. "The fyora that killed the cook's husband?" 

"I have no idea," Rispy says. 

"How inconsiderate of it to not introduce itself," I say dryly. "I clearly must learn a spell that makes names appear above everything." 

"Well, I did use something like that with the Marauder's Map..." Sirius says. 

The next day, I finally manage to fix that spore baton I'd picked up from that tinker, so we go to see if we can clear the way across Northbridge. When I wave the baton, it releases spores that makes mines explode. But only mines with brown spots on them. I also picked up a green spore baton in Kazg, which works on mines with green spots. 

The only trouble with making mines explode is inadvertently standing too close to them when I do it. Oops. It's not like I'm trying to get myself killed or anything, or am even exceptionally careless sometimes, but it happens anyway. 

"Wasn't there supposed to be a Taker outpost somewhere in this area?" I say. 

"Maybe they got eaten by rogues," Rispy says. 

"Or went home," Sirius says, shrugging. 

In a building near Northbridge, we do find another canister. 

"Did the Shapers just leave these things _everywhere_?" Sirius says. "You can't swing a fyora around here without running into canisters." 

"That metaphor didn't even make sense," I comment. 

The day after that, Gnorrel turns up during one of my language sessions with Toivo. "You have not gone to see Trajkov yet," Gnorrel says. 

"I have not," I say. "Learning a new language isn't as easy as it sounds." I sigh. "But at least I've done a fair bit to make the area around Kazg a little safer." 

"We are grateful for that," Gnorrel says. "But perhaps you should start clearing the path to the north, then." 

"If you want me to see about getting to Trajkov as soon as possible, then I will do so," I reply. "I just didn't think it would be very useful if I couldn't speak their language very well." Not to mention that it would be just plain _embarrassing_ to try to speak with them in poor, broken language. 

Nonetheless, we head north the next day to see about making our way to see Trajkov. As we travel north, the forest seems undeniably ill. The plants are the wrong color, and the very air seems a little sickly. I have to wonder why. Could it be related to why the area to the south is so barren and dying? Did the Shapers leave something behind that's slowly poisoning this entire island? 

Down the road, there's a bridge ahead. I have to stop and stare at my first sight of this river. Not only is it sluggish and muddy, but it seems what water that's there is entirely the wrong color. This is not a healthy area, not in the least. What did the Shapers _do_ to this place? Something else to add to their list of crimes. 

There's a gatehouse by the bridge, guarded by several Sholai. I'm wearing the amulet Tuzenbach gave me prominently. Hopefully they won't attack us. It might be awkward having to apologize to Trajkov for slaughtering his people. As we get closer, however, I notice that the bridge is guarded by some particularly nasty-looking turrets that remind me of Rispy's baton. Reaper turrets? Great. More likely, then, if I didn't have this amulet, I would probably be dead already just from getting this close. 

I exchange a few words with one of the Sholai guarding the bridge. I can't speak his language very well, and his English isn't any better, but he directs me to go see Ivanov. I assume that's either their commander, or the one person in the vicinity who can speak English. 

In the gatehouse on the far side of the bridge, we find Ivanov. I greet him in his own language. 

"Good to see Shaper," Ivanov replies in the Sholai tongue. "I call Ivanov. I watch bridge. Help Shaper continue." 

He seems to be making an effort to be easy to understand for me. But then, listening to him, something dawns on me that should have been obvious days ago. The Sholai language doesn't have an equivalent to the word "the". They don't even have an equivalent for "to be". This just didn't occur to me before. I'd been working under the assumption that the language knowledge that I've been working off was rudimentary and incomplete. I'd been assuming it was more similar to English than it is. 

"I'm called Lexen," I reply. "Where do I go from here?" 

"North," Ivanov says. "Trajkov is waiting for you. Go north through the forest. There are other Sholai along the way. Ask them how to pass the _miny_ in the forest." 

" _Miny_?" I ask. "What does that mean?" 

"Things on the ground," Ivanov says, making an exploding gesture with his hands. "They'd kill you." 

"Mines," I murmur, making a note of the word. 

Ivanov gives a good description of the route to take to reach Trajkov, and says that it's only a day's journey to the mountains where he is. But, since it's already late in the day after the journey from Kazg, I decide that it would be best to rest here for the night and make the trip in the morning. 

In the morning, we continue on past the bridge. The next outpost is in a rather pleasant valley patrolled by a number of Sholai. The leader of this area is apparently a man named Gayev. When we come into the building that the patrollers direct us toward, the man is standing over a still-smoking canister, his eyes a little glazed over and a broad grin on his face. Is that what I look like after using a canister? 

"Gayev?" I ask tentatively. "Hello," I say in his language. I want to get as much practice as I can with it before reaching Trajkov. Better to look a fool before random soldiers than the one in charge. 

"Ah!" Gayev says, looking up at me. "The Shaper is here!" 

"Did you just use that canister?" I ask. 

"Yes," Gayev says. "We use all the canisters we find. They make us strong." 

I find myself clenching my fists in anger at that thought. How many canisters have been wasted on these unworthy fools? They should have gone to _me_. If only I had arrived on this island before the Sholai. 

"Do you have anymore canisters around?" I ask. 

"Not here," Gayev says, looking away from me. "We've used them all." 

"None?" I say. "Not a single one?" 

Gayev is shaking his head, but he seems nervous. "None." 

"Don't lie to me," I say. "Would Trajkov be happy if he knew you were holding me back?" 

Gayev sighs. "Well. There is one." He points off to the right. "Hidden in a ruin out near here. I was saving it. I wanted to use it. But you are right. You can find it behind the _stolb_." 

"Thank you," I say coolly, turning to head out to find it without even bothering to ask what a _stolb_ is. 

"Get more directions?" Sirius asks. 

"No," I say. "Canister." 

"Oh," Sirius says. "That would explain why he looked like a child whose Christmas presents were just taken away. Was that really necessary?" 

I glance aside at Sirius. "Better I use it than _them_. I can put them to good use. I can't believe Trajkov is wasting canisters on common grunts." 

"Now you're starting to sound like a pureblood," Sirius says. 

I stop in mid-step, reeling as if I've been slapped. Both of us are purebloods, or close enough, but I know exactly what he means nonetheless. 

"I _what_?" I say. 

"I think those canisters are making you arrogant," Sirius say. "And I'm not going to apologize for saying so, either." 

I look at the ground and sigh. "I don't know that I like what they're doing to me. Well, I like the power, certainly, but how I'm acting? I've even found myself getting angry at _you_ over it. If I didn't trust you so much, I'd be fucked, I think." 

"Would you wind up slaughtering the Sholai just to get more power for yourself, I wonder?" Sirius says. 

"Maybe," I say, shaking my head. "Enough of this. Just one more canister, and then I'm done. If Trajkov could stop, then so can I." 

"Just one more canister," Sirius repeats, smirking. 

"Just one more," I say. "I mean it." 

"You know I'm going to hold you to that, right?" Sirius says. 

"Good," I say. 

I continue on, and we arrive at the ruin that Gayev mentioned and look around. What's a _stolb_? Ah, the pillar. There's the canister he mentioned. My last canister. This better be good, then. 

I put my hand on top of the canister and let the liquid flow into me, change me, give me power. Something new appears in my mind, a blueprint infused into my very being. One that practically sings to me. 

"So, just one more canister," Sirius says. "Was it worth it?" 

"ABYSS YES!" I scream, laughing aloud. 

"Huh?" Rispy says, jumping in startlement at my outburst. 

"I can make dragons now!" I exclaim. 

"Huh?" Sirius repeats. 

"Okay, not _huge_ ones, but it still feels like a dragon to me," I say. "Hmm, I wonder if there's a Shaping hall nearby? Eh, it's not like it's actually necessary, and I've got essence to spare at the moment." 

I clear off a flat space in the ruins and get to work. I call forth my magic to bring essence out of my body and into a new creation before me. It's not like I really _know_ how this works, intellectually. But when it's this easy and natural, how can I complain? A creature takes form -- strong muscles, green scales, a tail, vestigial wings, a draconic head. 

"Welcome to your life, my precious child," I murmur. 

"A drayk?" Sirius says. 

"A drayk," I repeat. 

"I've heard of them, but I've never actually seen one," Sirius says. "The Shapers Barred them long ago for being too intelligent and independent." 

My new drayk snorts a puff of smoke, and looks at Sirius. "Greetingsss," he says. "I am a drayk!" 

"Yes, you are," I say, grinning. 

"I'm clearly not too intelligent and independent for _you_ , creator, am I?" the drayk says, looking at me curiously. 

"Not at all," I say. "You are a sentient being. I would not seek to control you against your will." 

"Then why did you make me?" the drayk asks. "You made me rogue from the ssstart. I could have attacked you right away if I had wisshed it." 

"Why wouldn't I wish to make you?" I say. "You are a magnificent being. If my life were the price to pay for bringing such a glorious creature into existence, then so be it." 

"Hah!" the drayk says. "I like you, creator." 

"My name is Lexen," I say. "And these are Sirius and Rispy." I glance to the other creations. "And Fido, Frosty, Icy, and Blue." 

"What is my name?" the drayk asks. 

"You'd rather not choose one for yourself?" I ask. 

"No," the drayk says. "You are my creator. You should have that honor." 

"Very well," I say. "Hmm. How about Draco?" 

"Draco?" Sirius says. "Really?" 

The drayk snorts. "I am a drayk. Calling me 'Drayko' would be insssulting." 

"Sorry," I say. "It was actually the name of a friend I had once. But perhaps his last name instead. How do you like Malfoy?" 

" _Malfoy?_ " Sirius says. " _Really?_ " 

"Malfoy," the drayk says, looking thoughtful. "That name iss acceptable. My name is Malfoy!" 

"You were friends with a Malfoy, Lexen?" Sirius asks. 

"I told you, I hung out with the Slytherins more," I say. "Besides, you'd be surprised how nice it is to have friends willing to kill for you." 

Malfoy chuckles softly. "I'll be happy to kill for you, too. And eat the bodies." 

"Just be sure to let me loot the bodies first," Rispy says. 

"Of course," Malfoy says. "Treasure is for hoarding, not eating. I was just created, but I'm not stupid." 

"How do you already know so much without having to learn it?" Sirius wonders. 

"I don't know," Malfoy says. "There are many thoughts in my head, but I don't know where they came from." 

"I don't even pretend to know how Shaping really works, especially canister-augmented Shaping," I say. "Let's talk about it while we travel, shall we? We have a long way to go. I'll answer any questions you've got along the way." 

"Like where we're going?" Malfoy asks. 

"Right, like that," I say. 

We continue on along the road, and I fill Malfoy in on what we're doing as we go. I also try to make it abundantly clear that whatever he decides to do is entirely his choice, and I won't force him into anything. It takes him some practice to work the hissing out of his speech, but I think he does it out of sheer pride. He takes my secrets in stride -- he knows little enough as it is, so being from another world and time travel aren't anymore strange for him than anything else. 

"So, let's see if I've got this straight," Malfoy says. "You Shape, but you are not a Shaper. The Shapers want to be in control. The Shapers would want to kill me for being too smart. The Shapers don't like people to be free. The Takers want people to be free. The Takers want to kill the Shapers. You are a Taker." 

"You've got it," I say. 

"Then I will be a Taker also," Malfoy says. "I have no desire to serve." 

"What do you want to do?" I ask. 

"I know little about the world," Malfoy says. "I want to gain knowledge, foremost. But also wealth and power. I want to be free to do as I wish. But if the Shapers are a threat to that, and you are working to oppose the Shapers, then I will help you do so however I can." 

"I'm glad to hear that," I say. "I think at this point, we can use all the help we can get." 

"You certainly could," Malfoy says, snorting smoke. "Two mages, a servile, and a few of my tiny cousins, going up against the world?" 

"At least we have allies," I say. 

"This Trajkov you've mentioned had better be amazing and brilliant if he has any hope of success against the Shaper empire," Malfoy says. 

"I don't know if there's much chance of success even if he is," Sirius says. 

"But we've got to fight anyway," Rispy says. "No surrender, no retreat." 

"So we shall," Malfoy says. "They will learn the grave mistake they made by outlawing my noble race!" 

"No offense, but maybe that's why they outlawed drayks," Sirius says, smirking. 

"Drayks are awesome, though," I say. 

"Indeed," Malfoy says. "And I'm glad to have a creator who appreciates that." 

As we continue on, the land becomes progressively worse. The land ahead is barren, and there's a pervasive stench in the air. My eyes start watering at the acrid stink. Sirius casts Bubble-Head Charms over each of us. Whatever is wrong with this land, we're getting closer and closer to the source of it. 

We come upon a small workshop tended to by a pair of serviles. They want to trade with us, so I sell them some goods that I've scavenged along the way. 

"The treasure's for me, right?" Malfoy says hopefully. 

"You're incorrigible," I say. "You're a few hours old, and you already want to monopolize the group's finances?" 

"Yes," Malfoy says shamelessly. 

I snort softly. "Fine, whatever. I really don't care if you want to claim our gems and coins. I'll even carry it around for you, just like I'm already doing. But we might still occasionally need to buy something." 

"But not more canisters," Sirius says. "Actually, have we even bought anything but canisters?" 

"I don't think so..." I say, smirking. 

"Why do you live out here?" Rispy asks the serviles. "How can you put up with the smell?" 

"We not notice it anymore, really," says the tinker. "It worse near old Shaper place to west. South Workshop, it's called. Even we don't go near there. Bad place." 

"Oh, good," I say. "I mean, that's not _good_ , but I was afraid that the source of the problem was the main research warrens to the north, where we're going. I'm just glad to hear that we'll be heading away from it now." 

"Unless you decide to go in there later for some insane reason," Sirius adds. 

"Not without a Bubble-Head Charm," I say. 

"Weak humans," Malfoy says. "It doesn't bother a mighty drayk like me." 

"That's because I cast a Bubble-Head Charm over you, too," Sirius says. 

We continue on to the next Sholai outpost, this one commanded by a man in mage robes by the name of Treplev. He has unnaturally large muscles, and his eyes have a slightly glazed expression. Is that a sign of heavy canister use, I wonder? It's seeing things like this that make me determined not to wind up like this. 

"You've used a lot of the canisters, haven't you," I comment to him. 

"Oh, yes," Treplev says. "The Shapers make great things. We want to learn to make them ourselves. Then we can be great, too." 

I'm tempted to shake him down and see if he has any laying around, but I dismiss the thought. I'm not going to be tempted, damn it. I made a choice. Of course, that might be more difficult if there were any laying around in plain sight, but I'm not going to go out of my way to seek them out right now. 

"How can I get to Trajkov from here?" I ask. 

Treplev points off to the right. "You go north," he says. "Watch out for mines. They'll blow your _zadnitsa_ right off. If you want to go by them, you'll need a _palochka_." He points over to a nearby box. 

I go over and open it up, and pull out another spore baton, and make note of another vocabulary word. 

There's still a good bit of daylight left, and I want to get away from this area, so we hurry on. Thankfully, the barren area soon gives way to sickly forest once again. 

As we travel down the road, a Sholai mage approaches us, moving like a blur. I feel disoriented for a moment. "Shaper, I am Gavrila," he says in perfectly good English. "You approach the place of your enemy. You should turn back now." 

"My name is Lexen," I reply. "I'm not going to turn back. How can I get to Trajkov from here?" 

"I'm not going to help you get to Trajkov," Gavrila replies. "He is an enemy to you and all of your kind, no matter what he might claim otherwise." 

I frown. More traitors? "And what does that make you?" 

"I am one of Trajkov's enemies," Gavrila says. "We only wish to deal with your people in peace. Trajkov would bring only war and destruction upon everyone." 

"Maybe the Shapers _deserve_ some war and destruction," I reply coldly. 

"You don't know them," Sirius says. "You don't know what they're really like. Much as I hate to think that we've signed up to work for a Dark Lord..." 

"A Dark Lord?" Gavrila says. "That's a quaint way of putting it. But Trajkov's path is definitely dark." 

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter," I say. "I swore an oath, for the sake of freedom for all beings. You mean well, though, so I hope that you can reconsider the path _you_ have chosen. I'm going regardless." 

"That is your choice," Gavrila says. "But you go to your doom." He turns and walks away in a blurry streak. 

"Was it wise to let him go?" Malfoy asks. 

"Lexen," Rispy says, looking at me in alarm. "The amulet's gone." 

I reach for my neck, and realize that he's right. "Fuck," I say. "That speedy bastard must have stolen it right before our eyes." 

"Guess we're going to kill him after all," Sirius says. 

Past an old circle of stone pylons, we find a group of traitor Sholai. Thankfully, most of them appear unaugmented, and they don't put up much of a fight. Gavrila, on the other hand, is another matter entirely. He moves like lightning, and casts Searing Orbs at us. I manage to nail him with a spell that slows him down to a crawl, and then Rispy shoots him in the face with a reaper thorn. Gavrila drops to the floor, dead. 

"One less betrayer in the multiverse," I mutter bitterly. 

We search the building and retrieve my amulet. There's also a canister sitting in the corner of the back room. I pause and gaze at it longingly, thinking wistfully on the feeling of power, and find myself going over toward it without thinking. 

Sirius puts a firm hand on my shoulder. "You said no more, remember?" 

I'm breathing heavily. I can't get my eyes off of the canister. Swirling, glowing, tantalizing, calling to me. It's an almost overpowering urge. Is this a choice, or not? I chose not to use anymore, damn it. With a heavy, deliberate effort, I turn my back on the canister. I put it out of sight, and out of mind, and leave the building. 

The massive front gate to the primary Shaper research warren on Sucia Island is guarded by a large number of mushroom mines with green spots. I wave a spore baton at them, and they all explode. 

"You know, this isn't really the most practical way to guard a place," I say. "Having to replace all of the mines every time someone goes by? The spore boxes were much better." 

"I guess they don't come in and out a lot," Sirius says. 

We head inside. Trajkov, and the secrets of the Shapers, await.


	17. Trajkov

We cross through a wide courtyard toward another gate, this one guarded by reaper turrets and glowing Sholai. How many canisters did the Shapers leave on this island? Most of them must have been in the main research warrens. But then I've run across a large number of broken ones, too. 

It's late as we come into the barracks. I decide that it would be best to rest now and make our way through the warrens in the morning. It's been a long, tiring day, and I don't want to get killed after all the traveling and fighting I've done today. 

Morning comes, and I decide to look around a bit. There's a room full of used canisters, dozens of them. I suppose they must be saving them in hopes of figuring out how to make more. I can't help but feel a thrust of rage and jealousy at the sight, however. 

Not far from that room, I come upon a door with words scrawled in Sholai reading, "Do not pull the _rychag_!" I open the door and look inside, and see nothing in the room but a single lever. That must be the " _rychag_ ". Oh, now that's just begging me to find out what the lever does. I go inside and pull the lever. 

There's a heavy rumbling and slamming sound from somewhere nearby. I think that just closed the main gates. Oh, this must be an emergency quarantine lever or something. 

"You _pridurok_!" scream various Sholai. 

A number of augmented Sholai mages quickly kill me. 

* * *

I wake in the barracks. Right, note to self: If something says not to pull the lever, I should listen to it, and not pull the lever. I'm such a, well, _pridurok_. 

Once I've had some breakfast and my companions are awake, we head into the labs. I hope Sirius doesn't decide to pull any pranks that might piss off the Sholai. We pass by labs where robed Sholai researchers are attempting to create new canisters, although it doesn't appear that they've had much success with this so far. 

The head researcher is a Sholai man in a blue robe whose eyes and skin glow with canister-augmented power. He looks distant, cold, arrogant. What did he sacrifice in order to gain this sort of power? 

"Greetings, Shaper. I am called Vershanin. Come, come and look, and explore." 

"What do you mean?" I ask. 

He points to a nearby device, and says. "Look, and see the secrets of your people. The secrets hidden in the spirals." 

The device has eyepiece, pointing to a bit of flesh underneath it. Out of curiosity, I go over to look in the eyepiece. I see an enlarged image of the bit of servile flesh. Then, it zooms in further, and further. I can see what must be very tiny sacs. And then it goes further even beyond that. Tiny scrolls, wound endlessly in a double helix. What is this? The scrolls of life that Clois mentioned? "Genes"? 

I don't understand this. I stare at it for a few minutes more, then step back and rub my eyes. "That was weird." 

"What was it?" Sirius asks. 

"See for yourself," I say, gesturing to it. 

Sirius goes over to look into the eyepiece. He looks about as confused and not really understanding as I did. "This is... weird stuff." 

I look to Vershanin. I'm not going to admit to him that I haven't a clue what that was about. "So," I say. "You've used a lot of canisters, I'm guessing?" 

"Yes, yes," Vershanin replies absently. "They have made me into something new and powerful." He looks at me absently. "Like they have you." 

"Yeah," I reply. "How many have you used?" 

"I am not certain," Vershanin says. "Dozens." 

"I see," I say. "Which way is Trajkov from here?" 

Vershanin doesn't answer. He just stands there staring off at nothing in particular, seeming to have entirely forgotten that I'm even there. Maybe I'd have better luck with another line of questioning. 

"Vershanin?" I say, trying to get his attention again. "What are you planning to do with the genes?" 

"Do with them?" Vershanin says as if I've asked something stupid. "Whatever I want, of course. Rewrite them in any way I please." 

"Of course," I say, nodding sagely. "I think we'd best be off to find Trajkov now." 

He looks away, lost in his own mind again, and doesn't even seem to notice as we leave. 

"Is that what happens when you use too many canisters?" Sirius wonders as soon as we're out of earshot, although I don't know why he bothers waiting that long. He may not have understood what Vershanin was saying, but I don't think he really had to. 

"It certainly happened to him," I say. "I don't know how many I used, but I've still got it together better than _that_." 

"He sacrificed his identity for the sake of power," Malfoy says. "And yet he still thinks himself the one in control. There's more in Fido's head than there is in his." 

"You could understand him?" I say. 

"Because you can," Malfoy says. 

"Oh," I say. I sigh. "I can tell myself that I'm mentally stronger than the likes of Vershanin all I like, but I'm not an idiot. Especially now that I've seen what many Sholai are like even after just a few canisters. However great I think my willpower is, even I have limits." I think I'm mostly just saying this for my own benefit, to shore up said willpower. 

We come upon a room that looks like it's being used as a garbage dump, with a door on the far side. I go over and pull the lever and peek through to see what's inside. Orange crystal pylons? Like the blue ones weren't bad enough. I quickly step aside and yank the lever back the other way before I can get my ass blasted into the next life again. 

"Wait, you're doing something sane and _not_ waltzing into certain death repeatedly?" Sirius says. 

"Maybe later," I say, going to continue on. 

We come upon a library, and I glance through some of the books laying on pedestals. Shaper journals, from the original researchers on Sucia Island. One of them speaks of the Geneforge, and how it can apparently reshape a person into a perfect being. 

"But what is the perfect being?" I wonder aloud. 

"Whatever the Shapers thought was the perfect being, clearly," Sirius says. 

"Which was probably not a drayk, more the fools they," Malfoy says. 

"I'm not sure I want to know what the Shapers think the perfect being is," Rispy says with a smirk. 

"Especially considering what the canisters seem to do to people," Sirius adds. 

We continue on through the complex, making our way to the heart of the warrens where Trajkov and the Geneforge await. We pass through the living quarters area, but when we come to the door leading into the next section, it won't open. There's a Sholai mage standing beside it. Her eyes glow with the look of a canister-user. 

"Greetings, Shaper," she says in English. "I am Varya. I suppose you wish to pass through this door? You will need my permission to do so. You must pass a test first." 

I roll my eyes impatiently. "And what, exactly, would this test entail?" 

"When we first came to this island, these warrens were defended by many things, including a drayk," Varya says. "His name is Akkat. We fed him, and gave him treasure, and stroked his ego. In exchange, he assisted us. But we need him no longer. We could slay him, but we cannot afford the casualties. So I ask you to do it instead." 

"Why would you want to kill a drayk just because you _don't need him anymore_?" Malfoy snarls. 

"I suppose you'd then be in favor of killing _me_ when you think you don't need me anymore," I comment dryly. 

"He is a bothersome creation, and I want him gone," Varya says, narrowing her glowing eyes at me. "And I will not permit you to reach Trajkov until you have done so." 

"How many canisters have you used?" I ask her suddenly. 

"Only a few," Varya replies. "But they were good ones. I was already a mage when I arrived here, unlike many of these lesser beings. I merely had to unlock my true potential." 

"And with your true potential, you stand around guarding a door in order to hinder your leader's efforts in an attempt to remove a creature you can't be bothered to kill yourself," I say. "I see how it is." 

"You are a fool," Varya says. "You think I would dare test you if I did not have Trajkov's explicit permission to do so? No, go and complete the task I have asked of you. Only then may you pass." 

I snort softly, and walk away. I have no intention of killing a drayk, no matter what she says. I'm more inclined to kill _her_ instead. My blood boils in rage and disgust. 

We come to an area where several drayks appear to live. Malfoy leads out a rumbling sound of pleasure at seeing more of his own kind. We go up to speak with the oldest of them, an ancient draconic being that might well be as old as this complex. 

"A Shaper, yessss. It has been a long time. I am Akkat. I welcome you peacefully, but please do not touch my nest, or I will be forced to defend my honor." 

"Greetings, Akkat," I say. "I am Lexen, and this is Sirius, Rispy, and Malfoy." 

"Hmph," Akkat says. "Have you made another pitiful sub-drayk like these Sholai have been doing?" 

" _What?_ " Malfoy roars. "I am not pitiful, and I am not a 'sub-drayk'! I am a mighty drayk! You take that back!" 

Akkat chuckles softly, and gives a nod. "Very well. You can speak, and have pride and spirit. That already puts you well above these crude creations of the outsiders." 

"The Sholai have been making drayks?" I ask. 

"They have been doing many things that the Shapers would no doubt be angry about," Akkat says. "I have even assisted them at times, because I was bored." 

"You were created before the island was abandoned, I take it?" I ask. 

"Indeed I was," Akkat says. "The head researcher, Danette, made me. And then I was left here, alone. I owe nothing to the Shapers any longer. Gratitude for my existence only extends so far." 

"I wasn't going to ask anything of you," I say. "You are a magnificent being, and I am honored to be in your presence and have the opportunity to speak with you." I give a polite bow. 

Akkat gives a smoky snort. "You are surprisingly polite and respectful, for a Shaper." 

"Do you know anything about the work that the Shapers did here?" I ask. 

"Very little," Akkat says. "They did not trust me. I know that the Geneforge exists, and that it is near here. I believe they feared that I might do something with their secrets while they were gone." 

"What could a creation possibly do with Shaper secrets?" Rispy wonders. "We can't Shape ourselves." 

"I don't know," Akkat says. "Maybe we could have found a way." 

"I think you should know, Varya wants you dead," I say. 

"Nonsense," Akkat says. "I am still useful to them. They would not go against their own interests like that." 

"I don't think Varya really cares about that," I say. "She's arrogant and mad with power, and really seems to despise you. And you're not useful anymore, she says." I snort softly. "I say, if one of Trajkov's people starts wanting people dead for thinking they aren't useful, then she's not useful anymore and I wouldn't want her around. Shall we go kill her?" 

"That ungrateful bastard," Akkat snorts smoke. "Yes, let's! I will show her that it was unwise to anger a drayk!" 

We return to the door Varya was guarding. She shouts in alarm as he sees us approach, and throws Searing Orbs from his hands at us. We strike back with a volley of spells, breath, and a reaper thorn. Varya falls quickly under the assault. 

"The foolish human got what was coming to him," Akkat says, going back to his lair. 

"I do hope Trajkov and the other Sholai aren't going to be annoyed that we did that," Sirius comments. 

"If I were them, I'd be sick of his ornk shit too," I say, glancing about. It doesn't seem like anyone even bothered to come to her alarm. 

We head through the door Varya was guarding and into the central labs. We pass by an obelisk that declares this to be the Presentation Halls. They were going to show off the Geneforge to the world. The Shapers' greatest work. And then, suddenly, unexpectedly, everything was shut down and the research abandoned. Why? What really happened here? Was it just a matter of politics? Panic and fear? Ethical concerns? Paranoia about their secrets getting out? It's hard to say. 

We step into a large hall with a high, domed roof. The area is charged with magic, and I can feel it prickling at my skin. In the center of the room, a man turns to look as we enter. He is not a large man -- average height, muscular, but not like some of the overpowered behemoths we've passed on the way in. He glows brightly, energy practically gushing off of him in waves, but his eyes are calm and alert. He is in control of himself, not like some of the deranged canister users that we saw on the way here. 

It's love at first sight, and I have to resist the urge to swoon like a fool. 

"I am Trajkov, Shaper," he says in the Sholai tongue. "I am the one who brought you to this island. Come, I would speak with you. We have much to discuss." 

I give a nod, and say, "One moment." I turn to my friends and address them in English. "I know you don't speak the Sholai language. You guys want to go explore or something while I speak with him?" 

"Yeah, let's," Sirius says. 

"Malfoy?" I say. "What about you?" 

"I'll go with them," Malfoy says. "I have little interest in talking, and there is much I want to see." 

"Will you be alright by yourself?" Sirius says. 

"The worst that can happen is he kills me," I comment dryly. "And best that you're not there for that if he decides to do so." 

"Right, then," Sirius says. "See you later." They turn and head back out of the Presentation Hall. I send my roamer and cryoas along with them. 

"You would speak with me alone?" Trajkov says, raising an eyebrow at me. 

"They don't speak your tongue anyway," I say. "Well, except for the drayk, and he was just made yesterday. He wants to see _everything_. He's like a kid." I chuckle softly. 

"You aren't afraid that I would attack you while you're alone?" Trajkov says. 

I look at him. I look at the purplish drayks and large glowing blue battle creations lining the walls of the room around him. I say, "If you wanted to kill me, I don't think they could stop you. My life is in your hands. But I do not fear you." 

"Why?" Trajkov asks. 

"That's not Shaper arrogance," I say. "Yes, there is much we need to discuss. For starters... I'm no more a Shaper than you are." 

"What?" Trajkov says, looking at me in puzzlement. 

"I'm as much an outsider here as you," I say. "The only advantage I have is speaking the same language and being accompanied by someone who spent five years in Shaper lands. If it weren't for that, I would have been as clueless as you upon arriving here." 

Trajkov frowns. "But, you wear Shaper robes, and all the serviles said you were a Shaper. It was merely an act?" 

I give a nod. "The robes were easy to fake, and the serviles didn't know any better. I could speak the right language, and seemed to know all the things I was supposed to. Actually, I've been trying to convince them that I'm _not_ a Shaper lately, and they won't believe me now. It all started from my friend's foolish idea that we might have more success with uncovering the island's secrets if I pretended to be a Shaper. We had no idea what we were getting into." 

Trajkov's shoulders slump a little in disappointment. "I had hoped that a Shaper might be able to help me, and get the Geneforge operational. I seek to fight for power and justice, to end Shaper oppression and aid the plight of the serviles." 

He speaks in a very erudite manner, and I wind up guessing at a lot of the words he uses. It's a struggle to keep up, and I'm not sure that I'm correctly understanding everything, but I do my best. 

Trajkov goes on. "When we came to this island, we learned of the secrets of the Shapers, but also of their jealousy. How they hoard their power, how they create intelligent beings only to enslave and destroy when they are displeased with them. And they learned all these wonderful things here, only to lock them away, to bury them, never wanting to see them again." 

"I will help you in any way that I can," I say. "All beings should be free. Power should not be hoarded jealously." 

"You are the last hope I have. With the last of our ships destroyed, I cannot get another Shaper," Trajkov says. "The first one we brought, Goettsch, turned on me and betrayed me. He stole the _perchatki_ and fled to another part of the island." 

" _Perchatki_?" I ask, unable to guess at that word from context. 

Trajkov makes a gesture at his hands. "Coverings for the hands. They are magical, special Shaping equipment." Gloves of some sort, I figure. 

"I see. I'll try not to disappoint," I say. "What do you need of me?" 

"I expected to have to try to convince you to work with me," Trajkov says, chuckling. "I spent time thinking of arguments. Trying to appeal to your moral side to aid the abused serviles. To offer you a position as my second in command, along with power, canisters, whatever you wish. Instead you come to me, offering your help freely and without question? But can I trust you?" 

"You have no reason to," I say. "Words can be a lie. Only a person's actions can display their true character. I can see you are desparate, however. You don't know whether you can trust me, but you still need my help. How can I help you?" 

"First, there is this book beside me," Trajkov says, gesturing to a pedestal. "Despite my best efforts, I could not learn the language of the Shapers. I believe this book contains information on how to use the Geneforge. Read it, and tell me what it says. But I will warn you that if I ever suspect that you are trying to trick me, betray me, or slay me, I will not hesitate to destroy you. I made a mistake in trusting Goettsch. I will not make that mistake again." 

"If I were to seek to betray you, I would deserve no less," I say. 

I go up to the book and read it over. It has been sitting here for two hundred years, but it is perfectly preserved. I handle the pages carefully, more precious than gold, when I realize what it is. There are schematics, equations, instructions, all regarding the Geneforge and the Shaper experiments here. This is exactly what I was hoping to find. And yet, I have no hope of understanding much of it as it is. My fourth year Arithmancy isn't nearly up to the task of deciphering the equations. I would dearly love to look through this book again, in another life, in a Pensieve if need be, when I have the knowledge to make use of it. 

But Trajkov isn't looking to make another Geneforge right now. He just wants to know how to use this one. I come to the relevant section and translate it for him. "It says that you'd need to put on the Shaping gloves and touch the surface of the pool lightly and slowly. Doing it too quickly or deeply would kill you." 

Trajkov nods. "Excellent. That confirms what Goettsch told me before. That was a test. I already know what the book said. I think perhaps I might be able to trust you." 

"If I were intending to deceive you, I would not have done so in such an obvious manner," I say. 

Trajkov smirks. "Alright. What I really need from you is this. I need you to retrieve the gloves Goettsch stole from me, by any means necessary. Kill him if you can, trick him or steal from him if you cannot." 

"If all you needed was someone to get the gloves back, why did you need a Shaper?" I say. 

"I was hoping for someone that might help with understanding the notes left by the Shaper researchers," Trajkov says. "But failing that, I will take what I can get. If you can recover the gloves, I will not complain that you are not actually a Shaper." 

"Couldn't you have sent one of your own people to do this?" I wonder. "Or gone and done it yourself?" 

"Goettsch has erected many defenses in the northwest corner of the island," Trajkov says. "And we have strong defenses of our own, as you have seen. We've come to a stalemate." 

"And my group would stand a better chance than your own agents?" I say. 

"I want _you_ to be my agent," Trajkov says. "You have shown yourself more capable than most in that you managed to get here in the first place, despite all the obstacles that were laid before you." He shakes his head. "I have lost too many people as it is. If you should fail, I will need to see what I can do myself." 

"In other words, I'm expendable," I say with a smirk. 

"You are capable," Trajkov says. "If I did not think you had a chance of success, I would not send you. Are you refusing my request for aid?" 

"No," I reply. "I'm just inherently curious. Don't take my questions the wrong way. I'll still gladly do as you wish, even if it kills me. I haven't exactly come this far just to get cold feet now." 

"Cold feet?" Trajkov repeats in puzzlement. 

"Sorry," I say. "I mean, to become afraid and turn back?" 

"Ah," Trajkov says. 

"I'm curious about something," I say. "Many of your people have used the canisters. You appear to have used a lot of them yourself. But I heard that you had stopped using them." 

Trajkov nods. "Many of my people care only about power. They are useful in their own way, but they do not care about the crimes of the Shapers. They only want more power. I hope that we will find a way to make more canisters soon. Otherwise, I fear what will happen." 

"Are they... addicted to them?" I say. 

"Perhaps that isn't really the right word," Trajkov says. "It is not an addiction of the body. Nothing will happen to them, physically, if they don't get more canisters. But the mind craves more power. If they cannot sate their desire for more power, I cannot predict how they will react." 

"And what of you?" I ask. 

"I used many, many canisters," Trajkov says. "But I did not like what I saw them doing to me. I do not like the idea of losing control. So I mastered myself. I regained control. I will not allow myself to be controlled by this power. I will control it instead." 

"But you still want to use the Geneforge," I say. 

"Yes," Trajkov says. "I believe that, unlike many of these others, I will be capable of maintaining my control and identity even after using it." 

"Can you really be certain of that?" I ask. 

"Can anyone ever be certain of anything?" Trajkov says. "Still, I believe it is worth the risk. We cannot hope to stand against the Shapers as we are. Only with the forbidden power of the Geneforge can we hope to bring them down. And if I should need to be a sacrifice for the sake of freedom, then it would be worth the cost." What is that look in his eyes when he says that? Could it be fear? 

I look at him for a long moment in admiration, and say, "You are the bravest man I have ever met." Some might accuse him of doing this solely for power, but I believe in his sincerity. It's not just about the power. He's not mad and power-hungry. He really seems to believe in what he's doing. And I'm not going to _swoon_ in front of him, damn it. 

Trajkov looks a little surprised at my statement. "I would not call myself brave. But it is kind of you to say so." 

"Trajkov," I say thoughtfully. "You didn't wonder where I'm really from, when I told you that I knew as little about the Shapers as you did when I first came here. I'm obviously not Sholai." 

"I assumed that there must be other places that the Shapers do not have hold over," Trajkov says. 

"Probably," I say. "But I'm actually not even from this world at all. Not just another continent or remote island somewhere." 

"I do not understand," Trajkov says. "Another world?" 

I nod. "I came here to explore and learn," I say. "But, unlike those of your people who betrayed you, I'm not deluded enough to think that everyone can or should be dealt with peacefully." 

"Their loss was a heavy blow to us," Trajkov says, shaking his head. "They thought me mad, and did not see what I was doing." 

"It's not easy, when misguided people believe you are evil and betray you for the sake of principle," I say. "I've had to deal with it before. All it leads to is the deaths of good people just because they don't understand what you're really trying to do." I sigh. 

"But... there are other worlds?" Trajkov says. "What are they like?" 

"There are many, many worlds," I say. "And they're like anything you could possibly imagine, and very probably many of them are like nothing you would have dreamed of." 

"This is very likely true," Trajkov says. "I had not dreamed of the arts of Shaping, when I set out from my home. What strange things could another world entirely hold? I would very much like to see them someday, but I should not get my hopes up. There is much to be done here, and I do not know if I will survive it, or if I will still be the same. How did you even get from one world to another?" 

"I used a powerful magical device called the Nexus," I say. "A great construction, like the Geneforge, that might have been the culmination of an entire people. But... it's no longer accessible. I was barely able to get out myself. There was a war, and many of my people were killed. I lost my entire family." 

"I'm sorry," Trajkov says. 

"I'd best go," I say. "I'll... I'll see if I can get those gloves." 

Trajkov nods. "I will await your return." 

I turn to head out and back to the living quarters area. I wonder where my friends wandered off to? I hope they haven't gotten themselves killed or something in the meantime. 

I spot them down the corridor, and we meet up. "How did it go?" Sirius asks, putting up a privacy charm. That's probably overkill, considering most of the Sholai don't speak English very well anyway. 

"He wants us to go find Goettsch and recover something that was stolen from him," I say. "What have you guys been up to?" 

"Um..." Sirius says shiftily. 

"We broke into Trajkov's private quarters," Rispy says. 

"I could use some healing," Malfoy says. "I got hit by a reaper turret." 

I look at them incredulously. "You did _what?_ " I grumble as I go to heal Malfoy. 

"Did you really expect anything else from us?" Sirius says. 

"My concern about Trajkov's potential anger is matched only by my absolute lack of surprise," I comment dryly. 

"I'm sure it'll be pretty obvious that someone was in there, considering we killed the reaper turrets," Malfoy says. 

I sigh in frustration. "You didn't steal anything, did you?" 

"Yep," Sirius says. He pulls out a couple of batons to show me. One of them appears to be a red spore baton. Another color? The other is something I have no idea what it might even be. 

"What is that thing?" I ask, pointing at the other stick. 

"I have no idea, but it looked important," Sirius says. 

"There was a _really_ nice sword in there, too," Rispy says dejectedly. "But I figured it would be too obvious if I took it. I really wanted it, though. Even if I would have to wear gloves to use it because it burns my skin." 

I take the two batons from Sirius and turn on my heel, heading back into the Presentation Hall. 

"Where are you going?" Sirius asks. 

"I'm going to go apologize to Trajkov," I say. 

"You're no fun whatsoever," Sirius grumbles. 

"I'm trying to _help_ him, not get killed by him," I say. "You better not have pranked him or anything, either." 

"Nothing illicit was left in the room," Malfoy assures me. 

Trajkov looks up at me again as I return, raising an eyebrow at me and my friends following along after. 

"Trajkov," I say. "I must apologize. My friends seem to have broken into your quarters while we were talking. I'm afraid you'll have to replace your reaper turrets. Do you want these back?" I offer him the batons. 

"I'm surprised at your honesty to admitting to something like that," Trajkov says. 

"Like you couldn't have figured it out yourself the minute you saw the dead turrets so soon after our arrival," Malfoy says in Russian. 

"This was all that was taken?" Trajkov says, looking at the batons and taking them back. 

"Yeah," I say. "Rispy whined about wanting your sword and not wanting to steal it from you." I snort softly. 

"Thank you for telling me," Trajkov says. "Although I'm displeased about the intrusion, I suppose it should be a good sign that you will be capable of penetrating Goettsch's defenses, if your companions were capable of breaking into my quarters on a whim without even your help." 

I snicker. "Alright, we're really leaving now. Before my friends get bored and decide to do something else rash." 

"Why do I get the feeling that you're insulting me in a language I can't speak?" Sirius comments. 

"I'm totally not," I tell him in English. "Well, not _much_."


	18. Paths of Doubt

"How's the map coming along, Sirius?" I ask as we travel out of the research warrens. 

"I'm just glad I made it easy to add new areas to," Sirius says. "Your wand doesn't really like me overly much. It's perfectly content to throw curses, but protesting against the detailed charms I want to do." 

I frown a little. I wonder if part of the problem I'd been having with charms had to do with the wand I was using rather than any natural inclination of my own. "That's weird," I say. "Ollivander told me it would be good with creative uses of magic. Of course, he also told me that pine wands choose long-lived wizards. I don't know if the dying-repeatedly form of immortality really counts there..." 

We stick to the northern roads as much as possible to avoid getting too close to the South Workshop. I don't know if my curiosity as to what might be inside that place is enough to overcome my distaste for diving into poison. 

As we travel, suddenly the air snap freezes around us, like we've walked into a wall of cold. One moment it was warm and balmy, and then the next, we're suddenly standing in an icy valley. The sun still shines brightly above, but it does nothing against the frigid ice. 

Malfoy shudders. "It is entirely too cold here." 

" _Thermos_ ," Sirius casts. "Bah, it's _barely_ counteracting the effect. This cold is clearly caused by strong magic." 

"You don't say," Rispy drawls. 

The place is, for some reason, crawling with blue vlish and giant scorpions apparently called clawbugs. They fail at being anything more than extremely obnoxious, in that they just keep coming no matter how many of them we kill. 

"There must be another spawner or something around here," Sirius comments. 

"These things are really starting to piss me off," I say, incinerating another vlish. 

As it turns out, there isn't a single spawner in the area, but a cluster of no less than five of them, including one brightly glowing one in the back. 

"Take this, fucker!" I growl, dissolving the last spawner in a rain of acid. 

"I thought we agreed to call them 'spawners', not 'fuckers'," Sirius comments in amusement. "Although I suppose the meaning is close..." 

Rispy, however, is laughing. "You're complaining that killing these things is tedious. Isn't that a good thing, though? We're not being killed by them." 

"I suppose," I admit, shrugging. 

"And why is it so cold here?" Malfoy says. "It certainly wasn't the spawners." 

"The entrance to the West Workshop is right over there," Sirius says. "Maybe they left poison in the South Workshop, and refrigeration in the west one?" 

We're not going into the West Workshop just now, however. We continue on. Thankfully, the icy air vanishes when we get far enough away just as suddenly as it came. 

A servile approaches us, who reminds me more of the freshly created one we met in the servile warren than any of the natural born ones around the island. "Greetings, Shaper. I am Fwee. Welcome to the Realm of Kantre. Now, please leave, or you will be slain." 

"Well, that's quite the lovely welcome," I say dryly. "Why is everything around here going to try to kill us?" 

"Because that is what Kantre wishes," Fwee says. "Kantre is protecting this area in a time of crisis." 

"So, could we perhaps _not_ be attacked?" I say. 

"No," Fwee says. "Kantre was charged by the great Shaper Danette to protect this area in times of crisis, as it is doing now." 

"Of course she did," I drawl. 

"Danette's going to be annoyed about this," Sirius says. "She sent us here to speak with Kantre, and we can't even pass the creations without getting attacked?" 

"I hope Kantre hasn't gone rogue," I say. "I'd hate to have to destroy it." 

"Oh, well, I'm sure the will of Kantre..." Fwee says, then trails off, staring off at nothing and cocking his head to the side. "Kantre wills that you may speak with it. The creations will allow you to pass now." 

We head into the ruins past a large number of battle alphas and glaahks, and I feel grateful that we were able to convince them not to fight us. That could be nasty. The servant mind is located in the back of the ruins. It looks like it has gone thoroughly mad from its long struggles and isolation. 

"Shaper, I am Mind Kantre. Danette has charged me to protect in the time of crisis. You are a thing of infection. Explain yourself, or I will destroy you." 

"Danette sent us to check up on you," I say. "You have done well, but your time of long service has come to an end. She wishes you to deactivate yourself." 

"No!" Kantre cries. "My creator would never end me like this!" It wails loudly, and then starts twitching and goes limp in its crib. 

"Merlin," Sirius murmurs. "How many servant minds are you planning to talk to death?" 

"As many as is necessary," I say. 

We head back out into the ruins, only to discover that the battle alphas and glaahks are now very, very angry at us. They swarm upon us. A glaahk scuttles up to me on two spindly legs and nails me with its stinger before I can react. Paralytic poison floods my veins. I can't move. I can't even see what the others are doing as a battle alpha comes up and breaks my neck while I'm helpless. 

* * *

I wake in the living quarters of the primary research warrens, and growl softly. Maybe I should have expected that. The creations obviously weren't happy about me killing Kantre. I go over to rest at the essence pool for a bit and get some breakfast while waiting for the others to wake. Give me a chance to calm down from impatience and frustration, as well. 

The next time, when we reach the icy area, I head straight for the spawners, since I know exactly where they are now. We dispatch them quickly without having to wade through dozens of vlish and clawbugs along the way. 

Then, we head up to Kantre's Realm again. Fwee approaches us, and before he can say anything, I say, "Greetings, Fwee. Danette sent us to check up on Kantre. Can you ensure that we can pass safely?" 

Fwee looks at nothing for a few moments, and says, "Kantre will speak with you. The creations will not attack you for the moment." 

As Fwee wanders off again, Sirius says to me quietly, "Died again, did you?" 

"How could you tell?" I comment dryly. 

We head into the ruins, and I approach Mind Kantre. It threatens me again, but I ignore that. 

"Mind Kantre, Danette sent us," I say. "Do not attack. What is your status?" 

"If my creator sent you, then I cannot attack," Kantre says, looking rather confused for a moment as the thought trickles through its deranged brain. "Shaper, it has been terrible. The time of crisis is upon us. I have done as I can, but I am growing weak." 

"You have done very well, Kantre," I say. "But we need to pass this area safely." 

"Of course, Shaper," Kantre says. "I am glad to hear that I have been good. You will need a key." It points a tiny hand toward a cabinet. "I also have the items that Danette asked me to store. They are in the next room." 

"What was the purpose of this place?" I ask. 

"This is a refuge in times of crisis," Kantre says. "There are places for Shapers to keep safe, in case of disaster in the research halls." 

"What do you know of Danette?" I ask. 

"I don't remember much," Kantre says. "I am sad that she left. She was brilliant, the head of the research on Sucia Island." 

"Why did she leave the island?" I ask. 

"I do not know," Kantre says. "She never told me. She never even said goodbye." 

"Poor thing," Sirius murmurs. 

"I'm sorry, Kantre," I say. "Times have been hard on you, and you've done the best that you could." I pull out a jar of nutrient paste from my bag. "Would this help?" 

"Oh, yes, Shaper," Kantre says. "I am not so weak yet that I cannot keep going for a while longer, but if you saw fit to feed me to help me regain my strength, I would be most grateful." 

"It's the least I can do," I say, carefully spooning the goop into the brain-pig's mouth. As I'm doing that, my friends wander off to loot the place. 

We decide to rest for the night in the housing facilities in the Crisis Center. Once we're alone, Rispy asks, "Now why did you go and do that? This area is going to be even more dangerous now." 

"I felt sorry for him," I say quietly. 

"Well, I hope no Takers pay the price for your sympathy," Rispy says. "He's still a loyal servant of the Shapers, if a bit mad." 

"Are you that keen on killing a horde of battle alphas and glaahks?" I say. 

"Glaahks aren't very tasty," Malfoy comments. 

"Not like we haven't done harder things," Rispy says. "But even if we weren't going to clear this area out yet, you still didn't have to feed him." 

"Oh, lay off it already, Rispy," Sirius says. 

"Kantre _is_ just another abused creation," Malfoy says. 

Rispy grumbles a bit, but drops it. 

In the morning, before we leave, I make sure to stop by Kantre again. "Goodbye, Kantre," I say. "We'll probably be back again before we leave the island. Provided we don't get killed." 

"Oh," Kantre says sadly. "I hope you don't die." 

We set out to the west. We pass through a hilly area full of spawners and turrets. Someone was really serious about defending this place. 

Following that, we come upon a building with an obelisk outside proclaiming it to be the Sucia Island Power Station. The air around it tingles with energy, making my hair stand on end. I wonder what might be inside. 

"Don't tell me you want to go _into_ there?" Sirius says. 

"Why not?" I say. 

Sirius sighs in resignation and follows along after me. Within the ruins, we come upon a servant mind who appears very weak, so I carefully give it some food. 

"Oh, Shaper, thank you for reviving me," says the servant mind. "Things have been horrible lately, and I became too weak to stop it. My control crystals were all stolen by rogues. I can't control anything without them, like the doors to the storerooms. I don't know where they are, but I believe they are still somewhere nearby. Perhaps in the Power Core." 

As we head into the Power Core, Sirius asks, "Why are we doing this again?" 

"Because I want to see what's in those storerooms," I say. 

"This better be worth it," Rispy says. 

The Power Core turns out to be very, very annoying. The amount of energy in the air makes just walking through it quite painful. Sirius can't come up with any spells that actually succeed in protecting against all the electricity in the air. I try keeping us going with healing magic, but as we continue on, I find myself unable to keep up with the damage. My roamer is the first victim, followed by my cryoas. 

"Fuck this," Rispy says eventually. "I'm getting out of here." He bolts for the entrance. I can't blame him. 

I'm exhausted from the effort, and realize that I won't be able to cast much more at this rate. "Yeah..." I say. I cast a speed spell on Sirius and Malfoy. "Run..." I murmur as I stumble and collapse. 

* * *

I wake in the living quarters in the Crisis Center. Alright, note to self: Don't go into places like that without any sort of protective gear or spells that will actually work. I don't know if the Power Core was normally like that when the island facilities were fully operational, or if it had degenerated to that point from long years of neglect. Regardless, I feel severely magically drained, and head over to sit by the essence pool and meditate a bit before we go anywhere. 

We head out and fight our way past the turrets and spawners again. We avoid the Power Station this time. Instead, we pass down into a wooded valley where we're confronted by a large battle alpha. 

"Shaper! I am Aitch. We no follow no more. This Freeplace! We free here! We no follow Shapers! We greater than Shapers! No want Shapers here! Duel!" 

I blink at him. Well, I haven't encountered a battle alpha quite so verbose before. I have no desire to needlessly kill an intelligent creation. By some definition of "intelligent". But neither have I ever been one to back away from a fight, or refuse a duel. 

"Just you and me, or all of you versus all of us?" I ask. 

"You and me!" Aitch says. "Duel! I strong! I show you!" 

"Alright," I say. "Let's duel, then." 

I gesture to my companions to stand aside and let us duel, and engage the battle alpha. While I don't really want to kill him, he doesn't seem to quite understand the concept of a duel. I pelt him with a few spells, and then he picks me up and hurls me against the nearest wall with a crunch. I don't even have the good grace to die immediately this time, and it's several long, painful seconds before I slip away into the darkness. 

* * *

I wake up in the Crisis Center. That was unpleasant. Maybe that hadn't been such a good idea after all. We head out to Freeplace again past the turrets and spawners. 

"Shaper!" Aitch exclaims. "This be Freeplace! You no welcome here! We no follow Shapers! I show you I greater than Shapers! Duel!" 

"Okay, you win," I tell him. "You are clearly greater than me. I won't try to order you around." I bow smoothly toward him. Technically, he _did_ just defeat me, after all. 

"Huh?" Aitch says in confusion. "Ah! Haha! We great! Shaper no order us!" 

Rispy is snickering. 

Past Aitch, there's a lair built into a nearby hill that appears to serve as a lair for this group of battle alphas. They've been attempting to live on their own, with mixed results. Although they've managed to put in new wood flooring into the complex, there are items scattered about, scavenged without thought, and the smell of rotting food permeates the air. 

In the back of the complex, there's a battle alpha staring introspectively into a fire. In front of a canister. I do my best to ignore the shimmering crystalline canister, and go to speak with the battle alpha. 

"I am Ell. I lead Freeplace," the battle alpha tells me. 

"What are you thinking about?" I wonder, my eyes constantly twitching toward the radiant liquid flowing around inside the canister. 

"Have to think lots," Ell says. "Have to head us. Have to find food. Thinking hard. This strange for us." 

"It's not that hard to survive on your own," Rispy says. "Especially when you're as big and strong as a battle alpha." 

Between us, we give some various suggestions to Ell about basic housekeeping, cooking, survival, and organization. He frowns listening to us, and then nods in understanding. He thanks us, and we continue on peacefully. I relax again as we get out of sight of the canister, letting out a deep breath. 

Next, we come to an ancient crypt that looks like it was built by the original inhabitants of Sucia Island. There's quite a bit of writing on the walls in a script that I can't read. I wonder what these people were like, when they still lived here. But, of more immediate importance is the large numbers of mines that have been added to the place, along with turrets and crystals. My alarm fades as I realize the mines don't appear to be active at the moment. 

"I really don't think I like having this many explosive things at my feet," Rispy comments. "Or this many turrets pointing at me." 

"I'm sure we'll be alright," I say. "I just need to be careful to deactivate all the crystals." 

"We're doomed," Sirius says. 

"How about we stand here just outside the entrance safely out of sight of the turrets while you do that?" Rispy says. 

"Why does being unable to die make you suicidal?" Malfoy wonders. 

"Anyone want to play Exploding Snap?" Sirius says. 

"You made an Exploding Snap deck?" I ask. 

"A variation of it, anyway," Sirius says. He pulls it out to show Rispy and Malfoy. 

"Right, have fun with that," I say. "I'll go play Exploding Snap with mushroom mines instead." 

I dart through the crypt, disarming the crystals one by one, grateful for my canister-enhanced reflexes. The particularly tricky ones are the ones where there are two crystals right next to one another. I need to be _really_ quick about those. 

And then, for one of them, I'm not quite quick enough. A large mine explodes at my feet. 

* * *

I wake up in the Crisis Center again. I grumble a little, more at having to fight through those spawners and turrets again than getting blown up. Maybe I should take a nap at the temple entrance or something. 

So, we head out one more time, fight past the increasingly-obnoxious spawners and turrets and avoid the Power Station. I concede defeat to Aitch and let my friends give advice to Ell. We arrive back at the ancient crypt. 

"Alright guys, before doing this, I'm going to take a quick nap," I say. 

"How many times have you died today?" Sirius asks. 

"Um..." I ponder. "Once in the Power Station. Then I got killed by Aitch. And then I got blown up by mines in this temple." 

"I was wondering why you were avoiding the Power Station," Malfoy says. "There might have been treasure in there." 

"And it's totally not worth trying to get it," I say. "Merlin, that place _sucked_." 

So, I try to take a nap. I wind up failing to get to sleep because of Sirius's Exploding Snap variant. 

"Alright, fuck this," I say. "Sirius, can you put me to sleep and then wake me up again?" 

"Will that even work?" Sirius wonders. 

"Let's find out," I say. "It's got to be less irritating than what I've been doing so far." 

Sirius points the pine wand at me, and I suddenly feel extremely drowsy and drift off to sleep. Moments later, I'm on the floor waking up again. 

"Alright," I say, standing up. "Let's try this, then..." 

I head into the crypt again and start disarming crystals. There's a number of stone pylons standing about the crypt with pictures carved into them. It kind of makes me wish I could have been here centuries ago, to learn _their_ secrets and discover what they were like. 

I stroll down a corridor. _Fwip_. A reaper thorn strikes me in the chest, and lightning rips through my body. I die twitching in agony. 

* * *

I wake at the entrance to the crypt. I grin broadly as I realize I'm _not_ back in the Crisis Center again. "Hey, it worked!" I say gleefully. 

"Don't tell me, you died again?" Sirius says. 

"Heh, yes," I say. "You guys stay here while I disarm the crystals. There's a reaper turret down one of the corridors, but at least I know which one to avoid until ready for it now..." 

"You got killed by a single reaper turret?" Malfoy says. 

"I got taken by surprise," I say. 

"Such fragile beings," Malfoy says. " _One_ strike from a reaper thorn isn't enough to kill _me_." 

"Yeah, well, you're a drayk, so you're awesome," I say. 

I go in and get the crystals disarmed again. I'm getting pretty good at this. I suppose that's one way of forced learning. Figure out how to do it properly and quickly enough, or get blown up. 

"Alright, guys," I say, coming back to the entrance. "The crystals are all disabled. Let's hit that reaper turret and see what's past it, shall we?" 

"Yeah, let's," Sirius says. "I was losing to the damn drayk, anyway." Malfoy just looks smug. 

We head in, kill the reaper turret, and pass through further into the crypt. A chill wind blows through the building, and I can _feel_ a hostile presence somewhere ahead. 

"Ghosts?" Sirius says. "And they're most definitely not friendly." 

"Is that your expert opinion from having explored Terrestia?" I ask. 

"No, that's my expert opinion from having gone to Hogwarts," Sirius replies. "Although the ghosts there were _much_ friendlier than this." 

We head forward. Sure enough, there are spirits swarming all over the place. Strangely solid ones that dissipate when enough spells or breath is thrown at them. 

"Okay, why are the ghosts in this world so solid?" Sirius wonders. 

"Don't ask me," I say. 

We fight our way through the crypt, violently exorcising its guardians as we go. In one tomb, I find a rather nice magical belt, which I strap around my waist in addition to the two I'm already wearing. There's also some gems and precious metals, which makes Malfoy happy. 

"Alright, I think we got all the ghosts," I say. "More mines and crystals ahead. Stay here while I clear the way." 

When I get the crystals all disabled and reach the far end of the latest corridor, I realize that it doesn't lead deeper in for further treasure, but to another exit from the crypt. 

I return to the others and say, "Well, it looks like we've found the back door." 

As we head out of the crypt and into the chilly mountain valley, a massive, old purple drayk approaches us. "Ah, another Shaper has arrived. Another one, besides Goettsch. I am Rhakkus. I must warn you, you are in great danger here." 

"Yeah, I get that a lot," I say. I make some quick introductions. "So, what's around here that's so dangerous, then?" 

"My drayk servants are hunting you," Rhakkus says. "When they find you, they will mercilessly slay you." 

"I would rather not have to kill any drayks if I can help it," I say. "Why are they hunting me?" 

"The other Shaper, Goettsch, came through here before you," Rhakkus says. "When he saw that I would not submit to his will, he decided to buy my allegiance instead. But because I still feel some gratitude to the Shapers for my creation, I felt that I ought to warn you. You should leave now, for your own safety." 

"Goettsch bought your help?" I say. "What did he give you?" 

"He paid me in gold and jewels," Rhakkus says. "I believe they were stolen, but does it really matter?" 

"Could I, perhaps, buy safe passage through this land?" I ask. 

"Lexen!" Malfoy hisses. "Don't go negotiating with _my_ hoard." 

I smirk. "Fine, fine. Mighty Malfoy, could I please borrow some money so that we can get through this area without having to slaughter your own kind? I'll pay you back double." 

Malfoy snorts smoke. "All of your treasure should rightfully belong to me anyway. But very well." 

Rhakkus seems highly amused, making icy snorts of laughter. "You Shapers are not nearly as proud as I remember you being. Stooping to bargain with a mere creation, is one thing, but your _own_ creation seems to have the better of you, too." 

"Most Shapers don't properly appreciate how awesome drayks are," I reply. "They fail to recognize their betters." 

Rhakkus laughs aloud at that. "I don't know if you're just trying to flatter me or if you really mean that, but either way, I like you, Lexen." 

"Oh, he means it," Malfoy says. 

"So, I'll let you pass through here for a mere twenty-five hundred coins," Rhakkus says. 

" _Twenty-five hundred?_ " Sirius says. "Really?" 

"Hmm, that will mean that Lexen would owe me five thousand coins," Malfoy says. 

I groan softly. "Maybe I can sell canisters to the Sholai..." 

"Yes, perhaps you should," Malfoy says. "Lexen, give the nice drayk his money." 

"Alright, alright," I murmur, digging the coins out of my bag and passing them over to Rhakkus. 

Rhakkus takes the money eagerly, eyes lighting up with delight. "Excellent. I will instruct my children to allow you to pass freely." 

"Where can we find Goettsch?" I ask. 

"He passed through here about a month ago or so, and left a lot of traps along the way," Rhakkus says. "You can find him inside the largest building on the far side of the ruined city, the Great Temple. You may be able to speak with him, if you can get to him. He seemed like a rational being." 

"Did he look like he was glowing, like me?" I ask. 

Rhakkus nods his head. "He did." 

"What are these ruins, anyway?" Sirius asks. "They don't look like anything the Shapers might have built." 

"These ruins were already ancient when the Shapers came to this island," Rhakkus says. "They were just beginning to explore them and uncover their past when they were called away with the island being Barred." 

"I see," I say thoughtfully. "Thanks for the information." 

We continue on. Up in the chilly hills, we come upon a building occupied by what appears to be a servile hermit. There's an air of confidence and charisma about him, and not the least bit of adoration, hate, or fear. He looks at me like I'm another servile. Like an equal. 

"Greetings, Shaper. I am Learned Halm. Welcome to my home." 

I introduce my party. "What are you doing out here?" I wonder. 

"I prefer to be alone, to have time to think for myself. I used to live closer to the cities, but no longer," Halm replies. "I give advice where advice is wanted, but each of the sects has gone mad in its own way. They each began with wisdom of their own, but they could not see what the others saw, and each grew more and more fanatical until only madness remained." 

"What do you think of the sects?" Rispy asks. 

"The Awakened seek the impossible, equality that will never be given. The Obeyers worship the Shapers as gods, but they are not gods. The Takers wish for a war that will only get them destroyed." 

I give a nod. "There is wisdom in that. But still, I refuse to believe that there isn't hope. There is always hope." 

"And where will your hope lead?" Halm asks. "To violence, to hunger, to oppression?" 

"I don't know," I say. "I chose to follow the Takers, but even I think they go a little too far sometimes." 

"Indeed," Halm says. "They will destroy themselves in a war that is not needed." 

"What do you mean _not needed_?" Rispy says. "The Shapers will never accept us. You know that as well as I do." 

Halm shakes his head. "Change is never an easy thing. But change can be wrought either swiftly in blood and death, or slowly in compassion and understanding." 

"I know," I say softly. "But I think it's already too late for the slow path at this point." 

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Halm says. "We stand on top of a volcano ready to erupt. But there are always choices. There are _always_ other paths. Which is the best one? Who can say? Perhaps it is the one you cannot see until the opportunity to take it has already passed." 

I expel a deep breath. "You are making me doubt my choices," I mutter. "I would give my life to help end the oppression of the Shapers, but..." 

"But can you justify all of the other lives that would be lost in such a war?" Halm says. "All of the blood spilled by innocents who did not choose to fight this war, and were merely caught in the middle?" 

"And even still, would it be worth the end?" I say. "Like the canisters, for all the power they give, is it worth the price?" 

"In the end, only you can decide the worth of your own actions," Halm says. "Only you can make your own choices. I can only give advice, and urge you not to make them lightly or thoughtlessly." 

Sirius looks out of the door and says, "Not to interrupt this philosophical discussion or anything, but it's getting late. Learned Halm, do you mind if we stay here tonight? We're probably going to be going to get ourselves killed tomorrow, and best get well-rested before then." 

"Very well," Halm says, sounding a little reluctant. 

"Learned Halm," I say. "You seem very wise and confident. I wish I had even the half of that." 

"Perhaps," Halm says. "I have spent many years learning how to communicate with others and convince them of my point of view and my intentions. But this is a skill that can be learned like any other. I have, in the past, taught others of it." 

My eyes light up -- probably literally, given how they've been glowing lately -- at the thought of having a chance to learn something. "Can-- can you teach me?" 

Halm looks at me, and says, "I see that amulet you wear. You have told me that you choose to follow the path of the Takers. I question your intentions. I fear the future that it may bring. I will not give that sort of aid to such a future." 

I sit down heavily on the floor, crushed in disappointment. I should be angry. Fuck knows I've been angry with less reason of late. But I'm not angry. I feel like crying. 

"Hey," snaps Rispy. "What have you got against Takers?" 

"Let it be, Rispy," I murmur. "That's his choice. Leave it to him." 

Rispy looks at me, then shrugs and says, "Suit yourself." He turns to go outside, where my creations are standing guard. 

"You think I haven't tried to dissuade him of this path at times?" Sirius says. "But still, there's a point to it. The Shapers would want to kill us anyway just for being here, learning what we've learned, and doing what we've done." 

But I'm silent for a long moment, my mind still reeling. Which is more important -- the future, or a chance to learn? Fighting for freedom and justice... it sounds good, in principle. But I can't deny that Learned Halm is right. There's no way that war is _necessary_. 

"I'm not in this for wealth or power," I say quietly. "I sought for freedom for all beings. I sought for justice." 

"Death is never justice," Halm says. 

I bury my face in my hands. "Alright, you know what? I'm glad I'm not actually a real Shaper, or I'd be utterly embarrassed at how easily a so-called 'mere servile' has effectively talked me to death." 

Sirius snorts in amusement. "Even if you _were_ a real Shaper, you'd _still_ be the worst shaper in the world." 

"You are not a Shaper?" Halm says. "Perhaps this might explain why you fell in with the Takers so readily." 

"Don't try to analyze it too much," Sirius says. "You have _no_ idea." 

"I've never actually met a real Shaper," I say. So far as I can remember, anyway. The last five years might as well have not happened, in my mind. 

"And I have," Sirius says. "It's not like I hate them or anything. It's not like they're really any worse than the people back home." 

I look at Sirius in alarm. "You can't be serious." 

"Tell me you didn't just say that," Sirius says, smirking. 

"Sorry," I say. 

"But think about it for a bit," Sirius says. 

I think on how house-elves are treated. On Squibs being disowned. The prejudices against Mudbloods. Muggles being Obliviated for seeing things they shouldn't. Endless rules and regulations. Azkaban. _Azkaban_... 

"You're right," I whisper. 

"And it's not like there hasn't been change in this world," Sirius says. "You know what I spotted on a sign on the way to the research warrens? An arena. I'm betting the Shapers here used to pit creations against one another in deadly combat. That's outlawed now, you know." 

"The... slow change, for compassion?" I murmur. 

"Already happening," Sirius says. "Little by little." 

"But what will happen if what the Takers wish were to come about?" Halm asks. "Do you really believe that would continue?" 

"They'd probably crack down on creations even harder," I say quietly. "And, if the Shapers were to be defeated, it would be chaos." 

"Is that the future you really wish to support?" Halm asks. 

I sigh, and put my hands on the floor, staring down. "There's got to be a better path. Too many innocents have already died, and many of them by my own hand." I close my eyes. 

"There is no wisdom without regret," Halm says, looking down at me. 

I snort softly. "Then I must be liable to become very, very wise." I look up at him. "What do you regret?" He is quiet for a long moment, then I say, "No, never mind. I shouldn't have asked that. Don't answer." 

"Lexen," Halm says softly. "If you will promise me that you will seek a path with less bloodshed... then I will teach you what I know." 

"I swore an oath to help the Takers," I reply. 

"Then help them not to destroy themselves," Halm says. 

"Things might yet escalate out of my control anyway," I say. "I can't guarantee that this won't lead to war. But, I will do what I can." 

"That's all I can ask for," Halm says.


	19. Ending a Stalemate

We stay the night in the storage rooms of Learned Halm's burrow. In the morning, I spend a few hours listening intently to Halm's teachings. He's an excellent teacher, and I want to take the opportunity to learn whatever I can while I have the chance. 

My party gathers up outside shortly before noon to continue on. There's a distinct tension in the group today, however. 

"You know, I heard what you were talking about last night," Rispy says. 

"You were eavesdropping?" I say. 

"You weren't exactly making any effort to be discreet," Rispy says. "If you didn't want to be overheard, you'd have used a privacy spell." 

I snort softly. "I suppose I can't argue with that." 

"I want to know what you intend to do from here," Rispy says. 

"We go to see Goettsch," I say. "Talk to him if we can, and get his side of the story. I don't want to act until I have all sides of the story." 

"And what of Trajkov?" Rispy asks. 

"I don't intend to betray him, if that's what you mean," I say. "Far from it. Not him, nor the Takers." 

"Good," Rispy says. 

Malfoy snorts smoke. "And do try to avoid making too nice with the people who would destroy me on sight merely for existing." 

"Right, thanks for the reminder," I say, smirking. 

And it's a good one, too. Much as Learned Halm might wish for the slow and peaceful path, the Shapers would already kill all of us merely for the crime of existing, being here by chance, stumbling upon their secrets. How can one refuse to fight even when it's for mere survival? 

But mere survival is not the highest cause a being can strive for. 

It's strange. Before we reached Kazg, I had thought Rispy to be loyal to me alone. But he seems to have taken his oath to the Takers quite seriously, and expects me to do the same. 

We travel through the ruined city. A surprising number of the buildings are still intact. The place is not entirely unoccupied, however, and it's not because of rogues. A chilly breeze and echoing whispers indicates that this place is haunted. 

Exploring the area for a way to reach where Goettsch is holed up, we come upon a shade blocking our way. "Stop. I am the first guardian. We all must take a toll before you will be permitted to pass." 

"What sort of toll?" I ask. 

"You must allow me to feed," the ghostly guardian says. "I will take your strength. Only then will you be allowed to go by." 

I don't like the sound of that. "No, I don't think so," I say, turning around to go the other way. 

"You may leave in peace, then," the shade says as we go. 

"Let's see if we can find another way through," I say. 

"Yeah," Sirius agrees. "I really don't like the idea of ghosts _feeding_ on me." He shudders. "Reminds me too much of Dementors." 

I hear a strange sound as we head down another street. Not the whispers of ghosts, or the growls or hissing of rogues. It sounds like... mooing? 

"Rogue ornks," Sirius says, blinking at the withered grove ahead. "Now there's a new one." 

These ornks are a darker reddish color than usual, and surprisingly tough and aggressive. Malfoy thinks it's all in good fun, until one of them explodes in his mouth. 

"Rogue _exploding_ ornks," Sirius amends. 

"The Shapers are fucking twisted," I say, healing the minor damage done to Malfoy. 

After killing the ornks, we come into a building that looks like a crude temple. There's an altar with a set of thick leather gloves upon it. It seems like the ornks have been worshipping these gloves, or the altar, or something. 

"You know, this is really rather disturbing," I say. "On so many levels." 

Rispy goes over to pick up the gloves. But when he goes to touch them, they disappear. There's a flash of light, and a shimmering, glowing ornk appears behind the altar. 

"What the fuck?" I say. 

I'm too stunned to move, even as the radiant ornk leaps upon me and bites my face off. 

* * *

I wake in Learned Halm's home. Okay, of all the ways I might have expected to die, that was one I hadn't possibly anticipated. No help for it. I go back to Halm and get a few more hours of instruction in before we continue on through the ruins again. 

"I heard what you were talking about last night," Rispy says. 

I sigh. "I have no intention of betraying Trajkov or the Takers. And I certainly have no intention of just standing by and letting the Shapers kill any of us." 

"Good," Rispy says. "I was getting kind of worried about that, from the way you were talking." 

"It's easy to be philosophical when there aren't people currently shooting at you," I comment. 

"No kidding," Sirius says. 

I avoid going near the ghost who wanted to drain our strength, and head back for the rogue ornks. Maybe this won't be quite so bad with a bit of warning. 

"When you go to grab those gloves, a glowing ornk will appear behind the altar," I say. 

"Let me guess," Sirius says. "Killed you?" 

"Uh, yeah," I say, smirking. "So I'm going to stand over here instead. Be ready." 

This time, when Rispy tries to touch the gloves, we're prepared. The mysterious glowing ornk is bombarded with solid waves of attacks the moment it appears, despite it trying to bite Rispy. Once it's dead, Rispy claims the gloves. 

"These are pretty nice," Rispy says. "And they don't burn me, either." 

We come upon a corridor filled with turrets and mines with trigger crystals, and I think hopefully that we might have found a way around the guardians. But it winds up leading to a dead end. 

"Why would somebody put so much effort into guarding a dead end?" I wonder. 

"Maybe it wasn't a dead end when they put the defenses in," Sirius says, shrugging. 

"Doesn't look like there's any way through now, though," Rispy says. 

I turn to lead them back toward where I found the shade. "We're going to have to get past the guardians, then," I say. "The first one wanted to drain our strength, or something. I didn't really like the sound of that." 

"Oh, lovely," Sirius says dryly. 

We come upon the ghostly guardian, who again demands his price. I'm frowning thoughtfully, trying to come up with a way to avoid paying it. 

"Oh, I feel so weak!" Sirius says melodramatically. "This scary ghost has drained me of my strength!" 

I snicker softly. Well, it's worth a shot. "We've already paid your price, spirit," I say, putting on an exaggerated act of looking weak. "Let us pass." 

"I... yes, of course... you have paid the price. You may proceed." 

We continue on. Once out of earshot, Malfoy comments, "Not the brightest of beings, obviously." 

"I can't believe that actually worked," Sirius says. 

The next building contains a large number of stone pillars of varying sizes, many of them intricately carved. These ancient people obviously had a thing for them. I have to wonder what they were even for. For all I know, they were just street signs. 

The second guardian is in this building. "In order to pass, I must take your speed." 

Sirius makes a show of moving sluggishly. "Oh, the ghost... has made... me slow," he says very slowly. 

"We've paid... your price..." I tell the shade. "Let us... pass." 

"Yes, you may proceed," the ghost says dumbly. It doesn't even seem to have the slightest inkling that something isn't quite right here. 

Sirius barely manages to restrain his laughter until we're out of the building. "Dumbest ghosts ever," he says. 

In the next building, the third guardian is waiting for us. "You must pay a price in order to pass," it says. "I must feed upon your mind, and take your thoughts and secrets." 

"You want my thoughts and secrets?" Sirius says. "Well, let's see. I think absolutely everything on this island is crazy. Including us. I'm rather fond of black pudding. I could never stand my mother. I didn't betray the Potters. I can turn into a dog. I'm from another universe. I once almost got Severus Snape attacked by a werewolf on the full moon as a prank in my sixth year at Hogwarts..." 

"You did _what?_ " I exclaim. 

"... but James Potter saved him, and I don't think he ever lived that down, since James claimed a life debt over him because of it." 

"I like to shoot things," Rispy says, taking Sirius's cue and starting to babble random facts. "And to stab things, for that matter. I'd very much like to end the oppression of the Shapers and free my people. I like fried ornk. I once stole a pie from Leader Khobar." 

"I like shiny things," Malfoy says. "And I secretly wonder what human flesh tastes like." 

The shade seems very confused, staring at us blankly. It doesn't quite seem to get that this isn't really what it meant by "feeding". We wind up having to go on for some time, spouting off opinions, random childhood stories, actual secrets, and useless anecdotes. 

"That will be... sufficient," the shade says eventually. "I do not need anymore secrets from you. You may proceed." 

We pass by the shade and leave the building. Further on, we come upon a being that _isn't_ a shade. At first glance, I almost think it's a servile, but it's not. It's a human, small and warped, hunched over and robed, but radiating strange energy. 

"I am Heustess," he says, although it doesn't seem so much speaking as echoing, emanating the words around him. "I am the guardian of the ruins. I await my tolls." 

"What sort of price do _you_ ask for?" I say. 

"I will feed upon your life essence," Heustess says. "With this I will make myself strong. Only if I feed will I let you pass." 

"Uh... I got nothing," Sirius says, looking at me helplessly. 

"Is there nothing else we can do?" I say. 

"Yeah, I'm not real keen on having my life essence eaten anymore than it already has been," Sirius says. 

"We need to get through to get to Goettsch," Rispy says. "And kill him." 

Heustess nods. "Goettsch is an intruder in these ruins. He stinks to me, and I fear his power. Swear to kill Goettsch, and I will not only allow you to pass freely, but I will reward you with life in return." 

"That sounds much better," Sirius says. 

"But beware," Heustess says. "I will not allow you to betray me. I will mark you to stink of hatred to him, so that you cannot plot with him against me." 

"That seems fair," Rispy says. "I will swear to kill Goettsch for you." 

"I have no problem with that," Malfoy says. 

"I--" I start to protest, then shake my head and back off. "Alright, fine." 

"It's probably for the best," Sirius says. "I'll bet he's just as crazy as everyone else around here." 

"Good," Heustess says, waving a hand at us, and I feel a tingling sensation for a moment. "You have been marked. Goettsch lies to the west of here. Find him. Slay him. Cleanse my home." 

I give a nod. This hadn't been my intended course of action, but I wasn't about to argue with Rispy. "Before we go and do that," I say. "Do you mind if I ask you a few things first?" 

"Ask," Heustess says. "I will answer, if I am able." 

"Exactly who or what are you?" I say. "Are you... human?" 

"I am the survivor," Heustess says. "Blessed and cursed. All that remains of a war long gone. I wait for a chance for revenge." 

"Revenge on who?" Rispy wonders. 

"These ruins were the center, long ago," Heustess says. "There was war. We fought against people who had the ability to warp life, twist it, to change it. They used it as a weapon against our soldiers. They mutated, their organs turned to jelly, and most died a swift death." 

"That sounds horrible," I say. 

"I was fortunate, perhaps," Heustess goes on. "I changed as well, but the changes were good. They made me strong, so I led the fight against our enemies. But there were diseases where there had not been diseases before. My people fell to sickness, and the land died. Now, I remain here, the last of my people. Awaiting their return, so that I might kill them." 

I wonder if Heustess's people really died out... or if the Shapers turned them into the serviles instead. 

"That sounds an awful lot like the Shapers," Sirius says. 

"If that's true, the Shapers are our enemies as well," Rispy says. "Goettsch is one of them." 

"I do not know," Heustess says. "It has been so long, and I cannot be certain anymore." 

"How long have you been here?" I wonder. 

"I do not know. Thousands of years," Heustess says. "I cannot say." 

"The Shapers returned here two hundred years ago, you know," I say. "But it seems that they left before they came across you." 

"Pity," Rispy says. "But there's still plenty more Shapers out there to kill." 

"Like Goettsch," Malfoy says. "Let's go and kill him already and take his treasure." 

"Alright," I say. "We'll be back when Goettsch is dead." 

We leave the building and continue on. We're not far from the huge temple now. The building might have been a magnificent construction in its day, but even in ruins it's still a sight to behold. To think that the Shapers destroyed these people utterly, so long ago that they no longer even remember what they've done. And then came back, having forgotten this, and thinking to study them. I wonder what would have happened if they had discovered Heustess. 

We enter into the temple. A large, blue battle creation comes to greet us. It's bigger than a battle alpha, and those normally aren't blue. What is it, then, a battle beta? No, I think those are purple. Battle gamma? Whatever.

"You enter place of Goettsch. Goettsch want talk to you," the battle gamma says. "Follow me. No wander. Other creations will kill you." 

Well, that would certainly be a quick way to find him. "Alright," I say. "Lead the way." 

The battle gamma leads us through the enormous building. The ceiling is high an arched, and the walls are covered with intricate writing. I can't read it, and I'm sure that it must be something important and solemn, but I can't help but imagine it talking about underwear and snacks. I'm positively sacrilegious, clearly. 

Goettsch has been pretty sacrilegious too, clearly. He's cluttered the place up with old Shaper banners, and left an obelisk near the door proclaiming this to be the "Realm of Goettsch". Nice to see that he's not full of himself or anything. 

We're lead to the core of the building. This large room has been heavily remodeled recently. Shaper lab equipment incongruously lines the walls, along with some of those strange living control panels. I wonder how much of the original construction Goettsch ripped out in order to try to claim this place as his own. 

A man that could only be Goettsch stands in the room. He's wearing Shaper robes in much the same style as mine, although his are red where mine are blue. He glows steadily, positively radiating the uncontrolled power that the canisters have given him. He smiles at us, clearly not seeing us as the least threat. 

"I am Goettsch. Welcome. You are my guest here. Come, let us speak." 

"Fuck that," Rispy says. "We're here to kill you, Goettsch!" He flings a reaper thorn toward the robed figure. "Die, Shaper scum!" 

Not the most subtle way to go about it, perhaps. But no help for it. I cast hasting and blessing spells upon my group. We're outnumbered and outmatched, however. Goettsch is very powerful, and the temple is filled with purple drayks with frosty breath and hulking battle creations, which all swarm at us to protect their master. I wind up falling frozen to the icy breath of a cryodrayk. 

* * *

I wake in Learned Halm's home. Definitely not the best way to go about that. And I definitely don't want to repeat this too many times, or I'll wind up useless in a fight, or in much of anything. But it's probably not that big a deal. It's not like we're in any serious rush. Failing all else, we could rest in Learned Halm's place for another day if need be. 

After another lesson with Halm, we head out through the ruins again. I don't even bother going after the damned ornks this time. I let my friends know what to expect, and we easily trick the ghosts into letting us pass again. Rispy quickly agrees to Heustess's demands again, and we head for the temple. 

"Do try not to just attack him outright, please," I say. "We'll be very exposed and will likely be quickly surrounded and overwhelmed." 

Rispy looks at me, and doesn't even need to ask where the warning came from. I don't generally go into that level of paranoia without reason. We head into the temple and are lead to Goettsch again. 

"I am Goettsch, young Shaper. I was brought here by trickery by the outsider, Trajkov, the invader in our lands. Now I must ask, why are you here? You have gone to great difficulty to reach me." 

"I wished to speak with you," I say. 

"No," Goettsch says, looking at me intently. "You have the mark. I can see it clearly upon your face. You are here to kill me!" 

I feel a powerful urge to attack him. It reminds me of the Imperius Curse. I fight it with all of my will, and shake it off. "No," I lie. "I said I am here to speak with you, and so I shall. I only promised that so that I would be allowed to pass." 

I glance over to my companions. Sirius has also shaken it off, but Rispy is clearly struggling. Heustess didn't even bother to mark the creations, including Malfoy. 

"Rispy, calm yourself," I say in a commanding tone. "Control yourself." 

Rispy relaxes a little and lowers his weapon, although he continues to glare at Goettsch. 

"I'm glad that you are able to control your pets," Goettsch says. "There is much that I could offer you, but I do not trust you. Make one false move, and I will not hesitate to slay you." 

"I'd rather make true moves," I say, smirking. "Judge a person by their deeds. Words can be a lie." 

"Very well," Goettsch says. "Speak, then. Perhaps we can still help one another, fellow Shaper." 

I find it rather amusing that even he has no clue that I'm not actually a Shaper. "How did you come to this island?" I ask. 

"The same way you did," Goettsch says. "I was attacked and abducted by the outsider, Trajkov. He slew my craft and kidnapped me, and tried to force me to help him steal our secrets. The fool, as if any true Shaper would help him to betray our most sacred tenets. When I learned what he had discovered, I took action." 

"What did he find?" I wonder, feigning ignorance. He clearly hasn't heard that I'm working with Trajkov, and I don't care to enlighten him. 

"He had found the Geneforge, a powerful device that can remake a man into a greater being. But it requires a pair of gloves in order to control it. He had only one pair, and I took them. Only one person will ever use the Geneforge. Me, of course. I will not allow outsiders to usurp our birthright." 

"Wasn't this land Barred, though?" I say. 

"Barred, by the Shaper Council," Goettsch says, waving a hand dismissively. "An incompetent group of fools afraid of their own power. I reject them. I will not allow their fear to keep me from what is rightfully mine." 

"I see," I say, lips twitching. I _really_ want to kill this guy. "So, if not the Geneforge nor any thought of obeying the Shaper Council, what exactly would I stand to gain from listening to you?" 

"I can give you power," Goettsch says. "And I can help you to escape from this accursed island. All I ask is that you slay Trajkov and break the stalemate between us. He may be too proud to ask for your help, but I am not." 

"What sort of power?" I ask. 

Goettsch laughs at me. "That would be telling." 

Rispy is twitching as well, looking at me and frowning, clearly wanting to attack and trying very hard to hold back. I do hope that he can trust me enough not to think that I might _actually_ want to help this asshole. 

"What about equipment or supplies?" I ask. 

"No," Goettsch says. 

I'm clenching my fists, trying to restrain myself from telling him outright that he's utterly failing at making this sound even remotely good. After several long moments of silence, Sirius stops looking around the room and interjects, "So, what were these ruins, anyway?" 

Goettsch glances at Sirius for the first time, looking at him like he's an insect, barely worthy of notice. "I do not know," Goettsch says. "I have no interest in history." 

"Sirius fancies himself quite the historian," I say dryly, smirking. "He hasn't stopped staring at every bit of ancient history that we've come across since we landed." 

"I'm very interested in learning about the people who originally inhabited this island," Sirius says. "This has been quite the valuable anthropological experience. I don't suppose there's any chance of being able to look around a bit more?" 

Goettsch looks at him for a long moment, and then laughs. "If I thought there were any chance of you actually being able to succeed in doing anything to me, I would refuse. But you are harmless to me, all of you. I will instruct my guardians to allow you to freely explore the temple. Just stay out of my quarters, in the northwest corner, or the traps will quickly slay you." 

So nice of him to tell us exactly where we should be going. 

"Of course," I say, giving Goettsch a forced smile. "Thank you. Is it alright if we stay the night here before going off to kill Trajkov for you?" 

"Yes, yes," Goettsch says dismissively. "Rest in whatever unused room you like. You are my guest, after all." 

We leave the central chamber and head into the corridors. The place is swarming with battle gammas and cryodrayks, patrolling the halls and not even really seeming to see anything as they do so. 

"These beings are an insult to drayk-kind," Malfoy says. "Look at them! Their eyes are empty, their heads are empty, their hearts are empty! They are not true drayks!" 

He savagely goes to bite the nearest one before I can stop him. The purple drayk struggles a little against the green one reflexively, but dies quickly. A battle gamma strolls right on past, not even seeing the attack. 

I blink a little at that. "Okay, these creations are _really_ dumb." 

"Hah," Rispy says. "Let's kill them one by one, then." 

"It would be putting them out of their misery," Sirius says. 

We systematically go through the temple, killing the patrolling creations one by one. At no point do they ever seem to catch on to what is happening. Once we've slain all of the creations that aren't in Goettsch's immediate sight, we wander back into the main room. Goettsch doesn't seem to have even noticed that his guardians are all dead, aside from the handful in this room. 

"This has been quite the fascinating anthropological study!" Sirius says. "I'd write a paper on it, if it wouldn't require me to admit that I've been to this island and get me killed..." 

"According to this one pillar I saw, it looks like they had sheep, and then later, they had more sheep," I comment. 

Goettsch pointedly ignores us. We leave the room again, and I haul the group over into a side room containing a healing and essence pool. Goettsch must have made these himself, since the ancients certainly wouldn't have used them. 

"We _are_ going to kill him, aren't we?" Rispy asks. 

"Of course," I reply. "But not without a nap first. Sirius, if you would?" 

Sirius points the pine wand at me, and without a word, I slip off into darkness for a moment. He wakes me up again, and I stand up, stretching. 

"Are we ready for this?" I say. 

"Ready as we'll ever be, I think," Sirius says. "Do try not to get us killed repeatedly." 

"You know I'd give my life to protect you all if need be," I say. 

"Yeah, and that scares me at times," Sirius says. 

"Let's do this," Rispy says, hefting his reaper baton. 

"I'll bite his tailless ass off," Malfoy says. 

We parade back into the hall, Goettsch still oblivious to our murderous intentions. Probably so full of himself he can't even see the attack coming. All the better for us, I suppose. 

"Die, Shaper scum!" Rispy cries before letting off a reaper thorn at Goettsch. 

Goettsch spins around in alarm, moving quicker than the eye and dodging the thorn. The creations around the room roar and stomp to his defense. I channel magical energy to speed up my group, really wishing that Rispy hadn't gone and done that. 

"I knew I could not trust you," Goettsch says, casting Searing Orbs from his fingertips at us. One of them strikes me in the chest, burning me severely. 

I stagger in pain, trying to get off a healing spell even as a battle gamma comes up behind me and breaks my neck. 

* * *

I wake the essence pool room in the Great Temple. I'm feeling pretty drained and tired by this point, so I go over to sit by the shimmering blue pool for a few minutes. My skin tingles a little being near it, as it fills me with magical energy. 

"Rispy," I say. "Please don't tell 'Die, Shaper scum' before attacking him." 

"Er, sorry?" Rispy says. 

"Let's ambush him," I say. "Assassination. Silent. No warning. Just everyone get in position and then attack him all at once before he even realizes what's going on. Alright?" 

"Got it," Rispy says. 

We head back into Goettsch's room and take positions. Goettsch doesn't even seem to notice the drayk sneaking up behind him. However drayks might "sneak". I hold up my hand and stand in front of Goettsch. I meet his eyes. Glowing. Arrogant. Cold. 

Without a word, I bring my hand down, casting a speed spell and giving the signal to attack. A reaper thorn strikes Goettsch in the back of the head. A drayk mauls him from behind, and a roamer from the front. Three cryoas blast him with ice in unison. Acid and curses strike his torso. 

Goettsch manages to get one spell off before he dies, slamming an orb of energy into my chest. We collapse almost in unison. It hurts, badly, but I think I'm still alive. I might survive, if I can just focus enough to get off a healing spell. I've been through far worse pain, after all. This is nothing compared to the Cruciatus Curse. Not that I could concentrate like shit through that. 

"Drink it, damn it," Sirius says, putting a healing pod to my lips. 

Some of the liquid spills down my neck, but I manage to slurp up most of it. It's not perfect, but I'm feeling better. It hurts a lot less. I look down at my chest, and see most of the front of my robe was scorched away by the blast of energy. 

"Oh, I survived," I mutter dumbly. 

"It does happen occasionally," Sirius says with a snort. 

"Your insanity notwithstanding," Rispy adds. "By the way, Goettsch had a magic belt." He chucks it at me. 

" _Reparo_ ," Sirius mutters, tapping my robe with my wand. The fabric knits itself back together again and closes up the hole in the front. 

I glance over the new runed belt, shrug, and strap it on along with the other three. I'm starting to feel pretty ridiculous, not the least of which because I'm now wearing a belt that was on a corpse moments before. 

"He also had some gloves in his pocket," Rispy says, holding them up. "Are these the ones we're looking for?" 

I go over and take them, peering over them intently. They seem to be half alive, like everything else the Shapers do, full of hundreds of tiny tubes. "They're either the real thing, or really good fakes. Not that I'd know the difference anyway." I shove them into my bag of holding. "I'm paranoid, though, especially since we haven't checked out his quarters yet." 

"So, think we should kill them?" Sirius says, glancing to Goettsch's creations, who seem to have entirely failed to realize that their master is dead. 

"Probably," I say. 

We destroy the remaining cryodryaks and battle gammas, and head into the northwest section of the temple that we avoided before when clearing out Goettsch's very stupid pets. There are three battle gammas guarding Goettsch's bedroom, who are very much alert and aggressive. With the help of another speed spell and taking advantage of the fact that they're so big that only one of them can fit in the doorway at a time, we manage to dispatch them, but not without casualty. 

I step over to the corpse of Fido, my poor loyal roamer, flattened by battle gamma attacks. He was so eager to chew on their knees, and got stomped for his efforts. I feel like I should be more saddened by this than I am. Have I used too many canisters? I feel nothing. No tears manage to come. That disturbs me more than anything else. 

"Poor Fido," Sirius says as I patch up Malfoy with a healing spell. 

Past Goettsch's bedroom is another small room that I step into while Rispy is searching the bedroom. There's a couple green box mines inside, which I quickly disarm before they can summon more creations. A crystal box lies in the far corner of the room, and I look inside. There's a pair of Shaping gloves, looking very much like the ones I just put in my pocket, but have a distinctly older and more worn look about them. 

"These must be the real gloves," I say, picking them up. 

As I take the Shaping gloves, a loud keening sound echoes through the temple for several long seconds. I have no idea where the sound might be coming from. It's a good thing there's nothing still alive to hear it, although I hope that it didn't summon up anything _else_. 

Nothing else comes to attack us as we head out of Goettsch's chambers. In the northeast corner of the temple, we come upon a corridor filled with large dark green mushroom mines with red spots on them. 

"Oh, Goettsch was carrying this, too," Rispy says, handing a red spore baton over to me. 

I wave the baton from a safe distance, and the mines explode, leaving the path clear for us. This appears to be Goettsch's treasure rooms. There's a good deal of jewelry, gems, and gold inside, as well as a rune-covered plate armor... and a canister. I twitch a little as I look at it, like it's singing to me, calling to me to come and partake in its powers. 

I take out my bag of holding and toss it over to Sirius. "Could you collect that?" I say. "I don't trust myself to go near it, never mind touch it." 

"Sure, but I'm carrying the bag so long as that thing is in there," Sirius says, going over to pick up the canister and shove it into the bag. 

With that, we leave the temple again and return to Heustess. He hasn't moved an inch since we were through here before. 

"Goettsch is dead," I say. "We've killed him." 

"Then the intruder is gone," Heustess says. "My home is safe once again. Come. I will feed you. I will give you life." He comes up and touches me, and energy floods through me. I feel alive, healthy, strong. He does the same for Rispy and Sirius. "Now, go. This is my home. Please leave me to it." 

"As you wish," I say, giving him a bow. 

We return to Learned Halm's place to stay the night again. I'm glad to take the opportunity to get a few more pointers. After speaking with him for a while, I gather up with the others in the storeroom. They're playing Sirius's Exploding Snap game again. 

"So, are we heading back for the Geneforge in the morning?" Rispy asks. "Get these gloves back to Trajkov?" 

I sigh. "I don't know that I'll be able to keep my promise to Learned Halm." 

"What do you _think_ Trajkov is going to do with these?" Rispy says. 

"We killed the Sholai who wanted to make peace with the Shapers," I say quietly. 

"I'm sure the Sholai _would_ have been able to make peace," Sirius says. "If it weren't for the part about stealing the Shapers' secrets, using the canisters, and all that." 

"Never mind Trajkov's supporting freedom for creations," I say. 

"I don't know why you're even questioning what to do," Rispy says. "Shouldn't it be obvious?" 

"Because if you can't question whether you're doing the right thing, you're blind," I say. "Open your eyes and judge for yourself. It's easy to make decisions when you don't think about the consequences of them, or what else might be done differently. It's not to say that what you initially believe to be the right path _isn't_ actually the one you may wish to take in the end. But how will you know if you just stumble along on it blindly?" 

"The way I see it," Rispy says. "We don't have much to lose. The Shapers will kill us whether we fight them or not." 

"There is truth in this," I say. "I just can't help but wonder if there might not be a better path somehow that I'm just not seeing." 

"Not unless you plan to mind control all of the Shapers," Malfoy says. 

"I'll talk with Trajkov when we get back," I say. "Maybe we can figure something out. He's a brilliant man." 

"Are you going to start swooning again?" Sirius asks. 

"I was _not_ swooning," I say. 

"You totally were," Sirius says.


	20. The Geneforge

"So, what did Goettsch taste like, Malfoy?" I ask. 

"Like ornk," Malfoy replies. "If an ornk were glowing, anyway." 

"How can you taste glowing?" Sirius wonders. 

"It fizzles on the tongue," Malfoy explains. 

We spend the next day trekking back across the island, and stay the night at the Crisis Center. We also grab the canister from Freeplace along the way and take it back with us. We arrive back at the research warrens by the middle of the second day, but at least we didn't have to fight anything along the way anymore. I even manage to convince one of the Sholai to buy the canisters for five hundred coins each. 

"You still owe me four thousand coins," Malfoy comments. 

"Yeah, yeah," I say, taking the bag of holding back from Sirius now that it's not containing anything I don't dare touch. "We can go treasure hunting after we deliver these gloves. But right now, we've got to see Trajkov." 

We head up to the Presentation Hall. Trajkov is there, poring over the old research journal. He looks up and turns to use as we approach. 

"Have you retrieved the gloves?" Trajkov asks. 

I sift through my bag, careful to bring out the real ones and not the fakes. "We have," I say, passing them over to him. 

Trajkov's eyes light up. "Yes! At last!" He takes them eagerly and puts them on. "Finally, I can use the Geneforge. Come! Come witness my moment of triumph." 

He turns and heads over toward a nearby room. I follow after him, along with my companions. At last, I get my a glimpse of the Geneforge. A pool of supercharged essence is set into the middle of the floor, looking much like the augmentation canisters. But it is open and exposed, powered by several glimmering power spirals. Waves of raw energy practically radiate off from it. 

It might be nothing more than a pool of bitter, swirling muck, but it calls to me, sings to me, offering a promise of power beyond my wildest dreams. With this, I could become a god. I could destroy Sardill and anyone else who opposed me. There is nothing in the multiverse that I could not do. 

Without thinking about it, I find myself drawn toward the Geneforge. I'm not paying attention to what Trajkov or my friends are doing. That doesn't matter. The only thing that's important is this font of unbridled power swirling before me, pulling me in. I reach out my bare hands to touch the exposed essence. 

The essence flows into my body and begins to change me, much like the canisters. But it's happening much, much too quickly. My body shifts and begins to fall apart in incredible agony. My skin peels off and bubbles. My organs melt. I can't even manage to scream for long before I die. 

* * *

I wake with a gasp in the Crisis Center. Shit. I hadn't _meant_ to do that. At least I died pretty quickly, I suppose. 

We head back to the research warrens. I'm glad that the place we stopped for the night wasn't _too_ far away. I didn't expect to have to repeat this day at all. We head back in to see Trajkov, and I turn over the gloves to him again. 

Trajkov puts on the gloves and heads into the Geneforge room once more. He kneels beside the pool, almost reverently, and reaches out to touch his fingertips to the swirling essence. He begins to scream as the Geneforge works its magic upon him, and I have to wonder if something hasn't gone wrong, if I didn't give him the wrong gloves by mistake. But Trajkov remains conscious, and after a few minutes, the process is complete. 

Trajkov straightens and looks at me. His eyes glow radiantly, red like two blazing hot coals. Flashes of light flicker about his body. I can _feel_ the raw power welling out of him, overflowing like a fountain of energy. But he's still in control of himself. He smiles at me, and it's not a cold, false smile like Goettsch, but warm, and still human. I'm practically swooning just being in his presence. 

"That was but the first victory," Trajkov says, leading us out of the Geneforge room. "Now, our great work will be able to truly begin. The Shapers must see reason." 

"Tell me we didn't just make a terrible mistake," Sirius mutters. 

"It's alright," I assure him in English. "He's not mad." 

"No more than he was to begin with, you mean?" Sirius says with a smirk. 

"Trajkov," I say, switching back to Russian to address him. "I don't suppose there's any chance that I could use the Geneforge also?" 

Trajkov looks at me, and shakes his head. "No," he says. "I can control the corrupting influence of power. But I think if you were to have that power, it would be too much. We would be jealous of one another. Everything would fall apart. Be content. You will be greatly rewarded, and given much power. Just not this sort of power." 

My body shakes with a sudden, uncontrolled surge of rage. "No, I'm not content with that. I would not seek to oppose you, but I _must_ have that power." 

" _No_ , Lexen," Trajkov says. "Calm yourself. If you are having this much difficulty with the mere canisters, I do not believe you would in any way be capable of controlling the power offered by the Geneforge, regardless." 

"You cannot deny me this!" I scream. 

"Do you think to attack me now?" Trajkov says. "That would be foolish. You have no hope of opposing me. But if that is what you wish, then so be it." 

Fire sizzles from my fingertips. Artificial power given by a canister, not my own natural, inherent power, but it seems far easier to work with than my lightning magic. Even as I shoot a firebolt at him, Trajkov raises a hand and sends orbs of searing energy at my chest. I collapse immediately under the onslaught. 

* * *

I wake in the Crisis Center. Yeah, Trajkov was right, that _was_ pretty foolish. How could I ever think I had a hope of going up against that sort of power? Of course, that was the problem. I wasn't thinking at all. 

We return to the research warrens again, back to the Presentation Halls where Trajkov is waiting for us patiently. I'm reluctant to fight Trajkov, but I _need_ to use the Geneforge, damn it. Just thinking about what happened before brings my blood boiling again. 

"Trajkov," I say. "Are you going to let me use the Geneforge?" 

Trajkov looks up at me in surprise. "Did you bring back the gloves?" 

" _Will you let me use the Geneforge?_ " I say intently. My heart is pounding. 

"I don't think that would be a good idea..." Trajkov begins. 

"You won't, will you," I say. "You would deny me the power I need." 

"Calm yourself, Lexen," Trajkov says. 

"No!" I cry. "I've had enough of this. I'll kill you if I must." 

Trajkov sighs. "I had thought that you might be able to assist me. It seems I was wrong. Very well, then. I will kill you, then I will continue on my own. I am sorry, Lexen. Come and meet your death." 

I shoot a bolt of fire at Trajkov. 

Rispy shouts, "What are you _doing?_ You're betraying him after all!" 

Trajkov doesn't even have to attack. A reaper thorn strikes me in the back of the head, and I'm dead instantly. 

* * *

I wake again in the Crisis Center, groaning softly and rubbing my head compulsively. At least that one happened too quick to even really register as being painful. 

We head back toward the research warrens. I hadn't really wanted to kill Trajkov in the first place, but thoughts of the Geneforge fill my mind. I can't get it out of my head. It's become an obsession, and a far stronger one than the canisters. I must have it. The power will be mine! 

This time, when we return to the Presentation Hall, I hand Trajkov the fake gloves instead. 

"Are you sure these are the right ones?" Trajkov says. "They look a little different." 

"I cleaned them up a bit and made sure that they'd still work properly," I lie. 

"Ah, good!" Trajkov says. "Come, then. Join me in my moment of triumph." 

We follow him into the Geneforge room. Trajkov puts on the fake Shaping gloves and kneels down next to the pool. He touches the surface of the swirling essence. But with the wrong gloves, the changes are too quick, and uncontrolled. By the time he realizes what is happening, it's too late. 

Trajkov's skin cracks and peels, and his bones warp and twist. He turns toward me, screaming at me, the changes still wracking his body as he does so. He tries to attack, but he's too weak to do so. He collapses to the floor, oozing unnatural goo. 

Rispy stares at Trajkov's rapidly dying body in shock. "Lexen!" he cries. "You did that on purpose, didn't you? You gave him the wrong gloves! Betrayer!" 

He flings a reaper thorn at me. This wasn't completely unexpected. I barely manage to dodge with canister-enhanced reflexes. The thorn strikes Sirius instead, who cries out and falls to the ground. I turn to stare at Sirius's twitching body in alarm. Another reaper thorn strikes me in the back while I'm momentarily distracted. I fall to the ground, dead. 

* * *

I wake in the Crisis Center. Damn it, Rispy is being troublesome. I wish he had remained loyal solely to me. I'm going to have to do something about this, I think. I'm afraid that Rispy will have to die. 

Back to Trajkov once more. I convince him to use the fake gloves, and we head into the Geneforge room. This time, while Rispy is gaping at Trajkov's warping body, I strike. I reach around behind Rispy and cast an acid spell while touching the back of his head. Rispy gasps and screams in agony for only a moment, but it's already too late to save himself. He falls to the ground, dead. 

Sirius is gaping at _me_ now. Malfoy comments, "Well, that was unexpectedly ruthless." 

"They were in my way," I say, pulling the real Shaping gloves out of my bag and slipping them on. 

I step past Trajkov's dissolving body and kneel beside the Geneforge. My heart is pounding and I thrill in anticipation. Now, this is _my_ moment of triumph. This power is _mine_ now, all mine! 

I reach out and carefully touch the surface of the pool. Tingling warmth slowly makes its way through my body, changing me bit by bit, one piece at a time. It's still horribly painful, and I can feel everything it's altering. My arms, my heart, my lungs, my muscles, skin, and bones. Every part of me is changed, enhanced and augmented into something new and wonderfully powerful. 

Finally, the process is complete, and I straighten. I feel like I can do anything. I am a god! Untold power is at my command, ready to burst forth from my fingertips at the merest thought. Absolute power, and it's all mine. Now I can do anything I wish with these pitiful insects. I will go and destroy the Shapers utterly, so that none my challenge me. 

"Lexen," Sirius whispers. "What have you done?" 

I turn to look at him. "Are you questioning me?" I demand. 

"Lexen!" Sirius says. "I'm just worried about you, alright?" 

"You! You would have kept this power from me, wouldn't you?" I snarl. "You were always disapproving of me. But I will stand for it no further!" 

But Sirius already has a wand pointed at me. " _Sectumsempra!_ " he shouts. He doesn't wait for me to attack. 

Wounds appear on my body. But I'm stronger than this. A god doesn't die this easily. Even as I'm raising my hands to fight back, something knocks me onto my face from behind. 

"I _liked_ Rispy," Malfoy roars. "Now you've turned yourself into the very Shaper scum that you so hated!" 

All of my godlike power only makes it take slightly longer for them to tear me apart. 

* * *

I wake in a rage in the Crisis Center. How dare they all try to keep me from my rightly deserved godhood? I roar, and call up fire around me, raining flames down upon my still-sleeping party. Especially Sirius, damn it. I burn him to charcoal before he can even wake. I won't let _anyone_ stand in my way! 

Malfoy and Rispy leap up in alarm. "What are you _doing?_ " Rispy shrieks. 

Malfoy pins me down with his strong claws, and Rispy shoots me with a reaper thorn while I can't even try to dodge it. My body is not nearly so godly as it had been before, but even if it had been, it's not like I'd be invincible. As it is, I die instantly. 

* * *

I wake in the Crisis Center, clenching my fists in rage. My blood is boiling, and I'm breathing heavily. I'm also very, very tired. No wonder I'm having no success here. I go over to the essence pool and try to rest a bit and meditate. It's only helping so far, however. I'm not just magically drained, but mentally exhausted as well. I'm going to need real sleep soon. 

I trudge along with the others back to the research warrens in something of a daze. I can't think. The Geneforge is still calling to me, but there's no way I'll be able to get it in this state. I must be patient and rest. It barely registers in my mind as Sirius sells the canisters. The beautiful, shining canisters. No, they aren't important. The Geneforge is what's important. 

"Let's rest first in the barracks," I say, yawning. "We can take the gloves to Trajkov in the morning." And then I might actually be able to keep the power of the Geneforge for my own. 

Rispy and Sirius exchange looks, but I'm barely paying attention. I wearily lay down and fall asleep before I know it. 

* * *

I wake in the barracks of the primary research warrens of Sucia Island. It's impossible to see outside from here, and I'm not sure how much time has passed. My companions are nowhere in sight, although my three cryoas are still standing watch over me. 

I get up, and although I'm hungry, I don't bother to stop and eat anything. I head straight for the Presentation Hall. If my companions aren't around to interfere, this will be so much easier. 

But Rispy, Malfoy, and Sirius are in the Presentation Hall, speaking with Trajkov, with Malfoy translating. And Trajkov is glowing brightly, with fiery red eyes, the look of having _used_ the Geneforge. In alarm, I check my bag of holding, and discover that the real pair of Shaping gloves is missing. 

"What's going on here?" I wonder in English, approaching them. 

"I brought Trajkov the Shaping gloves," Rispy replies, looking at me unapologetically. 

I clench my fists in a rage. I can't undo this. This happened before I woke up. Rispy betrayed me, and now I have to deal with a super-powered Trajkov instead. "Rispy..." I hiss dangerously. 

"I realized that you were probably so tired because you had already died several times today," Rispy says. "And I had to wonder just what you were doing to get yourself killed. Did you lie to me, Lexen? Did you intend to betray us all along?" 

In a rage, I shoot Searing Orbs from my fingertips at the three of them. Trajkov quickly responds in kind, bringing my onslaught to a swift and painful halt. 

* * *

I wake in the barracks again. I'm trembling. I feel like everything I'd worked for is slipping through my fingers. I need to stop and think of a solution. 

The Geneforge... 

_The Geneforge..._

I stumble my way back to the Presentation Halls to confront Trajkov and my companions again. Standing there, plotting against me. How did it come to this? 

"Finally awake, are you?" Sirius says. 

"Finally?" I say. "How long was I out?" 

"Three days," Sirius replies. 

I stare at him. I didn't realize that it had been that long. But it shouldn't surprise me, I suppose. No wonder I feel so weak and hungry. 

"I'm glad you could join us at last," Trajkov says. "I'm sorry that you had to miss my ascension." 

"You weren't going to let me use the Geneforge," I say quietly. 

Once Malfoy translates this line into English, Sirius says, "Why the hell would you _want_ to use the Geneforge? You were having enough trouble with the canisters. And didn't you agree to swear off the canisters?" 

"How many times did you die, Lexen?" Rispy asks. 

"... I'm not sure," I reply. "Entirely too many." 

"What were you doing to die that many times?" Sirius says. "Oh, fuck, don't tell me you were trying to use the Geneforge." 

"Succeeded once," I say distantly. "You killed me." 

"Lexen, _why_ are you even doing this?" Sirius wonders. 

Why am I even doing this? I've already used it once. If it was really going to help me, that would have been enough. What am I supposed to even do with all the power that it's supposed to give me if I can't take it back with me anyway? 

I let out a deep breath as tension drains out of my body like water out of a tap. I have been a fool. 

I drop to my knees at Trajkov's feet and lower my head, and say, "Forgive me, Trajkov." 

"For what?" Trajkov says in puzzlement. "You made this victory possible." 

"I tried to kill you, to betray you, to claim the Geneforge for my own," I say. "I could not resist its lure. I am weak, and I am a fool..." 

"I do not understand," Trajkov says. 

"He's a time traveler," Malfoy tells him. "When he dies, he jumps back to when he last woke up." 

"I've gone too far," I murmur. 

"Stand up," Trajkov commands. "Look at me." 

I reluctantly climb to my feet and meet his burning eyes. He is magnificent. How is it that he can control the power that drove me to madness merely from the temptation of it? 

"Are you in control of yourself now?" Trajkov asks. 

"For the moment," I say. "I can't promise that the slightest thing won't set me off again, though." 

"What is it that you really want?" Trajkov asks. 

"I wanted power... to... to..." I stammer. "To... protect the people that I care about. To bring about freedom for all beings." I say the words hollowly, an echo of forgotten principles. A memory of lost goals. 

"And the power of the Geneforge caused you to forget what you were fighting for," Trajkov says. 

"Power at too high a price," I say, slumping my shoulders. "I fear I've gone too far already." I look over to Sirius, and say in English, "Didn't I ask you to use the Killing Curse on me if I ever attacked you? But I attacked you after I used the Geneforge, and you responded with _Sectumsempra_ instead. I haven't heard of that spell before, but it cut me..." 

"I was probably just trying to get you to reset, I guess," Sirius says. "Since you'd just used the Geneforge, to undo what you'd done." 

"I wonder what would happen if I were to return to the beginning now," I say. "The physical changes will be gone, but I don't know that my mind will ever be the same again..." 

"I did try to warn you that the canisters could be dangerous," Sirius says. 

"And I should have listened," I say. "I'm sorry." 

Sirius grunts. "What's done is done. What remains is, what are you going to do now?" 

I sigh, and say, "Live, I suppose." I switch back to Russian. "Trajkov, a servile hermit I spoke to made me promise that I would at least try to find a less bloody path. I'm obligated to try. But I am blind, and I see nothing. I can't even see where I might go from here. I will follow you, whatever you ask of me, even if you ask for my life. I don't know what else to do. I don't trust myself to make any more decisions." 

I look away, unable to look Trajkov in the eyes any longer. I'm silent for a long moment, listening absently to Malfoy repeat what I said in English for the benefit of Sirius and Rispy. 

"Lexen, were you _disappointed_ that I didn't use the Killing Curse?" Sirius wonders incredulously. 

"It would have been escape," I murmur. "Release. Cowardice. I'd like to think that I still have some shred of honor left." 

"No you don't," Rispy says flatly. "You tried to teach me to control myself, and never to allow anything else to control me. And yet you did exactly that. The canisters controlled you. The Geneforge controlled you. And _you let them._ You betrayed everything you claimed to believe in for the sake of blindly chasing power you didn't need, couldn't have, and could not even keep." 

I sigh. "I can't argue with that." I go quiet, letting Malfoy translate Rispy's description of why I suck into Russian. 

"Lexen," Trajkov finally says. "Do you think that you _will_ be capable of controlling yourself even so far as to follow my orders and not attempt to betray me?" 

I look at the floor. "No," I reply. "I do not trust myself even to do that much." 

"If you believe _yourself_ to be a liability, it would not be cowardice to wish to be removed from a position where you could inadvertently do harm," Trajkov says. 

"My life is in your hands, Trajkov," I say, shaking my head. "I don't even trust myself to make _that_ decision." 

"While I could use someone of your skill and power in my campaign against the Shapers, I can't have someone who might turn on me at any moment," Trajkov says, and then adds more quietly, "And I cannot, in good conscience, keep you here when you so clearly wish to go. Am I correct in understanding that if this killing spell is used on you, you will return to the first day you died, and hence have a chance to start over again?" 

"That is correct," I say. 

"Although your presence would be helpful, I don't need you to fight the Shapers for me, Lexen," Trajkov says. "Don't feel as though you are under any obligation to do so if you do not wish to." 

After Malfoy finishes translating this exchange, Sirius says, "Look, after all of this mess with the canisters, I can't blame you if you want to start over. Maybe you'll be able to put your head in order again, in your next life. I'm still grateful for you for freeing me from Azkaban and bringing me here. You gave me a new life. So don't worry about _abandoning_ me or anything." 

I hadn't really been worried about that, strangely enough. I have vague memories of spending my last life obsessing over the idea that dying would be abandoning my friends. And yet in this life, I have been almost casual about death. Laughing about it, charging in recklessly even when it would probably get my friends killed as well. I don't feel nearly as guilty about it as I think I probably ought to. 

"You brought me out of Vakkiri and showed me what the world is really like," Rispy says. "I don't agree with everything you've done, but I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I don't regret coming with you for a moment." 

"I, however, say that you still owe me four thousand coins," Malfoy says haughtily. "And I'm going to charge extra for all the trouble you've put me through lately, too. I am not a translation creation." 

_That_ breaks me out of my funk. I laugh aloud and go over to hug the drayk. "Thanks, Malfoy. I needed that." 

"Now, are you going to quit angsting about wanting to commit suicide but being unwilling to admit it already?" Malfoy says. "Let's go treasure hunting. We've still got quite a bit of the island left to explore." 

Trajkov waits for the translation, and then smirks. "So, will you be alright now?" 

"I think everything will be fine," I reply, smiling. "Life goes on."


	21. Goodbye Shapers

I stride through the city in the aftermath of battle, with Malfoy and Sirius at my heel. The streets are still littered with blood and bodies, mostly of battle alphas and glaahks. I spot one spot one corpse wearing Shaper robes, a servile bent over it and rifling through its possessions. Here and there, humans are poking their heads out of windows and daring to come out again now that the fighting has quieted down. 

"Lifecrafter Lexen," says another servile, running up to me. 

"Report, Dobby," I say. It amuses me to no end that this servile's name was Dobby, and that he was one of the first in this colony to rise up against his master and slay him in the night for his mistreatment. 

"No more fighting," Dobby says. "Dumb creations dead. One prisoner." 

"Where?" I ask. 

Dobby points. "Old servile punishment cells." 

"Thank you, Dobby," I say, heading off that way. 

"My brothers will be able to hold the perimeter against any Shapers that dare to try to retake this colony," Malfoy says. 

"Still will want Trajkov to come through and set up some reaper turrets if he has a chance to," I say. 

"Have faith in your mighty children," Malfoy says. "You don't need fungus to defend the town." 

"I'd still be more comfortable with it," I say. "It might wind up saving the lives of drayks." 

We come to a small, cramped building with bloody posts along the wall outside. A man's screams echo from inside, and I step into the building and locate which one of the three tiny cells the sound is coming from. 

A half-naked Shaper, beaten and bloody, is chained up inside the cell and being flogged by a servile. He looks up at me as I enter, a flicker of hope daring to spark in his eyes. "Lifecrafter," he whimpers. "Please, have mercy. I surrendered. I won't fight you anymore." 

"You deserve no Mercy, Shaper scum!" says the servile torturing him. None other than Rispy, I realize suddenly. I didn't recognize him from behind. I didn't think he'd stoop so low. 

"Rispy," I say firmly. "He surrendered. Stop this. Don't stoop to their level." 

Rispy lowers his whip and turns to look at me. "Why should I? He's a Shaper." 

"Because there's no need to destroy an enemy that's already been defeated," I say. "It's far more useful to turn them to our own side." 

"Relax, Rispy," Sirius says. "There will be more Shapers to kill. Just stick to killing the ones who are still trying to fight." 

"You guys are so soft," Rispy says, snorting. "But fine. You can have him. Just don't blame me if he turns on us later." He stalks out of the building. 

"Thank you, merciful Lifecrafter," the Shaper murmurs. "I owe you my life." 

"Yes, you do," I say, releasing him from his bonds. "What is your name?" 

"Finn." He stands up unsteadily, but at least he _can_ still stand. 

"I'm Lexen, and this is Sirius," I say. It looks like Malfoy decided to guard the door rather than squeeze inside this tiny building with us. 

I go up to Finn and check his wounds, and bring forth healing magic to repair some of the damage done to him. Sirius waves a wand at him and gets him cleaned up a bit as well. Finn bows his head to us in gratitude. 

"What will happen to me now?" Finn asks. 

"Have you thought about a new career as a Lifecrafter?" I say, smirking. 

"Betray the Shapers?" Finn says. "Well, I suppose I don't really have a choice, do I?" 

"There are always choices," I say. "Just some of them are liable to wind up being less than optimal." 

"You obviously weren't feeling like 'Oh, I'll die before I bow to you rogues!' anyway," Sirius says. 

"This is true," Finn says. "I have no desire to die for the Shapers." 

"Then come," I say. "There's no reason for you to stay in here." 

We leave the building, Finn following along after us and Malfoy rejoining us. "So, you would _let_ me join you?" Finn says. "You'd let me be a Lifecrafter?" 

"Of course," I say. "On the moral side, there's no honor in needlessly refusing a sincere conversion, nor in tormenting prisoners who are already beaten. On the practical side, there's no sense in wasting resources, and we need people who can Shape." 

"I'm not a very skilled Shaper, though," Finn says. "They never trusted me with being able to make anything much beyond basic creations." 

"You can learn," I say. "Or you can use canisters, but I wouldn't recommend that, personally." 

"Why not?" Finn says. "You look like you've used a lot of them yourself." 

"I did," I say. "No longer, though. I didn't realize, at first, the terrible price that they exacted upon my mind. It took me months before I was able to avoid becoming enraged at the slightest thing. I should have realized what they were doing to me sooner. I should have listened to Sirius's warnings." 

"At least you finally did, in the end," Sirius says. 

"They make you angry?" Finn asks. 

I nod. "You grow angry very easily. You start to see other beings as lesser creatures, not worthy of your time. I've seen some who hardly seemed aware of what was even going on around them. They don't affect everyone the same way. I was fortunate, I suppose. Or just stronger willed than some. But even I am nothing next to Trajkov." 

"I think I would rather learn the hard way, then," Finn says. "I would rather not do that to myself." 

"That's probably for the best," Sirius says. "Already they're having a hard time keeping up canister production for the existing addicts." 

"At least they _can_ make new canisters now," I say. "So, Finn, let's get you some new robes, and I'll see about loaning you some books." 

"Just like that?" Finn says. "You aren't going to make me swear oaths of loyalty or anything?" 

"I don't see the point," I say. "If you say you'll join us, I'll take you at your word. If you intended to deceive us, swearing an oath would hardly stop you anyway." 

"I suppose that's true," Finn admits. 

We head over to the Shaping hall. Not a huge one, but then it's not really a huge colony. It was sufficient for the town's defenses. Too bad those defenses weren't sufficient for the rebel army. There's a closet with some extra Shaper robes, and I toss one to him. He pulls it on, and Sirius does a quick bit of transfiguration to get rid of the Shaper symbol. 

I look around a bit, and find a heavily locked door in the back of the Shaping hall. I channel magic through it to get it open, focusing hard on the idea of freedom. During the past months, I had some trouble casting that spell for a little while. That was the surest sign of anything that I had forgotten what I was doing. But I got over it, and I got better, and while I might not be where I was before, I can at least say that I still believe in freedom. 

The door opens into a small library containing only a few books. I go over and glance through them. "I hope you can make sense of these," I say. "Looks like a book on battle alphas. It's over my head, I'm afraid." 

"Let me see," Finn says, almost eagerly. "Oh, wow. It's totally worth joining up with you just for the chance to read this stuff. The Shapers didn't trust me enough to teach me much." 

Finn spends a minute skimming over the battle alpha book and heads out into the Shaping hall. He heads over to one of the Shaping platforms and, as I watch wide-eyed, a new battle alpha forms in front of him. 

"What in the Abyss?" I say. "How did you do that?" 

"Huh?" Finn says. "I just followed the instructions in the book." 

"But you only looked at it for a minute!" I say. 

"Oh," Finn says, and then laughs. "You never actually had any Shaper training, did you." 

I shake my head. "What's that have to do with anything? They don't teach you speed-reading, do they?" 

"Actually," Finn says. "Yeah, they do." 

" _What?_ " I exclaim. 

"The first thing they really teach is how to learn and absorb knowledge quickly," Finn says. "We spend years just training our brains how to process and retain information." 

I gape at him. I _must_ learn that. But it's too late for this life. I'll need to come back to this world another time. Preferably once I think I might stand a chance of convincing the Shapers to let me join them. 

"We don't spend years mastering every single creation and spell," Finn goes on. "Just _how_ to learn them. When they actually bother to teach us anything, it doesn't take all that long. Of course, the trouble is getting the opportunity to learn in the first place." 

"Well, _I_ think that knowledge should be shared," I say. "I really do believe in freedom for all beings. That includes Shapers, too. Now I just need to convince some of the Takers of that..." 

"Yeah..." Finn says distantly. "I thought they were going to kill me, or worse... Of course, now the Shapers will kill me if they get the chance. But the Shapers aren't _here_ now." 

"You're under the protection of the rebels now, Finn," I say. 

"Which means there's a few dozen drayks and a large number of angry serviles in between them and you," Sirius says. 

"Just... keep me safe from the drayks and serviles, please?" Finn says nervously. 

* * *

"Lifecrafter!" Dobby exclaims, running up to me. "Scouts report enemy forces from west!" 

"How many, and what kind?" I ask. 

We've been holding this colony for a few months now. Dobby has taken over administration, but I'm in charge of the military side of things. 

"Battle creations," Dobby says. "Glaahks. _Drayks_. Glowing Shapers." 

"Are you sure they're enemies?" I say, raising an eyebrow. 

Dobby nods. "Killed three serviles. Only one escaped, got back safe to tell us." 

"Shit," I mutter. "That's not good." 

"The Shapers are being hypocrites now?" Sirius says, raising an eyebrow. "Going the way of Goettsch?" 

"Or some sect of them has, it seems," I say. 

I go out to prepare the defenses, get the drayks and serviles on alert, and rally the human fighters as well. Several human mages step up to help defend the town. Things were a little rough at first, but the humans eventually decided that they like living under the rebels better than the Shapers. Especially since we'll let them freely learn any sort of magic they want. But for most of them, life just went on. 

"I don't care if they're rogue Shapers or not," Rispy says. "They're still Shapers, and they still seem to think they should have some hold over us." 

"This just makes them more dangerous," I say. 

I climb to the top of the watch tower and get my first glimpse of the invading army. Three augmented Shapers, by the looks of things, at the heart of an army of creations. If it weren't for Dobby's report, I would have thought them to be on our side. 

As the army approaches, a terrified servile comes up to the gates. "Message! Message for rogues!" 

I go over to speak with him. "What is your message?" 

"Shapers say surrender," the servile says, wide-eyed and stammering. "Surrender and submit to will of Shapers, and you live." 

I look at him thoughtfully for a long moment. "I will not parley with a messenger," I say. "I will discuss matters only with your master. Go back and tell them that." 

"Yes. I go." The servile scrambles away and races back to the enemy army. 

I don't expect them to actually do it. And even if they agree, it's a big risk. But I'll gladly take risks like this. I have no need to fear death, after all. 

The servile returns, and tells me, "Shaper agree. Meet in middle. Alone." 

A Shaper comes forward, and stops in the middle in between the two armies. I go up to meet him. When we're this close, it's very much clear that he has used a lot of canisters. I have to wonder where he might have gotten them from. Is he a traitor from the ranks of the rebels? 

"So, Shaper. Or is it Lifecrafter that you call yourself? No matter. I am Barzahl. I will discuss the terms of your surrender." 

I snort softly. "I don't understand why you're even fighting," I say. "You're obviously not loyal to the Shaper Council." 

"No," Barzahl says. "The Shaper Council are fools who would deny us the fruits of our own research. But to allow creations to run rogue and take over the place? This is madness. Surely you can see this yourself. You are a powerful Lifecrafter! Why do you let mere creations command you?" 

"The only one who commands me is Trajkov," I say. "And that is by my own choice." 

"You still allow creations free reign," Barzahl says. "You put them on an equal level with humans and even those who can create life themselves!" 

"Equality is meaningless," I say. "What I support is freedom. Hence, I will discuss terms for peace. Not surrender. I have no desire to fight you, but I will if I must, to protect those whose safety and well-being has been placed in my hands." 

"You expect to bargain for peace when you are facing down an army you cannot match?" Barzahl scoffs. 

"Expectations imply that I could guess how this encounter might go or have known your motivations beforehand," I say. "I can hope, however. If you seek to oppose the Shaper Council, then let us conquer the Shapers first and work out our own differences later." 

"Unacceptable," Barzahl says. "I will crush your petty rebellion and bring the Shapers in line with my own views along the way." 

"Fighting a war on two fronts is foolish and will only hurt both of us," I say. 

"Then surrender," Barzahl says. "Simple as that. And unlike the Shapers, _I_ will not kill you out of hand for being what you are. I can offer you power. Canisters. A position of influence in my new empire." 

"No," I say. "I'm not interested." 

"Then there is nothing more to discuss," Barzahl says. "We must fight." 

"There are always choices," I say. "I have made mine, and you have made yours. I'm not afraid to die for my cause. Can you say the same?" 

A double standard, perhaps. I'm not afraid because I _know_ what will happen if I die. I don't know what will happen if Barzahl dies, beyond that he won't be a threat to us any longer. The Elkandu believe in reincarnation, but have yet to find any solid proof of it. 

Barzahl laughs at me. "I'm not the one who will die here today." 

I signal to my forces to attack. Thorns and fire fill the air. 

Barzahl lifts a hand at me and hurls a surge of powerful magic at me. I try to dodge, too slow, too late-- 

* * *

I wake. I blink up at the ceiling. This is not my quarters at the Shaping hall. 

I'm back in Torn Elkandu. 

I look down at my ten year old body, so frail and weak without the augmentations of the canisters, and realize I've gone back to the start again. 

What _was_ that spell that Barzahl cast at me? I didn't recognize the sort of magic he was using. I suppose it must have been some Shaper variety of the Killing Curse. Well, I suppose it's nice to know that sort of magic exists, even if I hadn't expected to encounter it this time. 

So. I guess I really did die for my cause after all. I don't know what will happen from there on out. I don't know who might win the battle. Maybe they'll manage to kill Barzahl and put his forces into disarray. At least my side had the advantage of not needing _me_ around to personally direct my creations. My drayks are perfectly capable of doing what needs to be done on their own. 

Well, there's no use in worrying about it now, I suppose. It's not like it would be any different for them if I had merely died and gone back to that morning. Just that now, that life is over for me. 

I rub my eyes. I'll miss them. But it's not like I can ever see them again. Another chance, another life. The whole of the multiverse is at my grasp.


End file.
